


Make this house a home

by Signe_chan



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Background Melinda May/Natasha Romanov, F/M, Fix-it fic, M/M, Non-traditional gender rolls, Non-traditional take on ABO dynamic, Rape/Non-con Elements, Warning for non-consentual sex scene between Melinda May and Phil Coulson, discussion of trans feelings in the context of the genders presented in the ABO-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson has never been very good at being an Alpha. Society doesn't have many options, though. After all, who wouldn't want to be an alpha? He seems to have the perfect life. An omega, Melinda. A daughter. Surely they've got it made? </p><p>There are detailed warnings in the end notes if you're worried about any of the things mentioned in the tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Trojie for beta reading. 
> 
> Detailed warnings in end notes.

The first thing Phil thought when he opened the cabin door was that he must have been losing his sense of smell to not have noticed this before. The second thing was blind panic that cause him to slam the door again as though they would be any help when his dick was growing hard and thick in his trousers. 

The mission was already FUBAR. A simple in and out had resulted in them being made - the team splintered as they tried to get away without drawing more attention. Stumbling across this cabin was the first bit of luck he and Melinda had come across in the week since they’d lost contact with the rest of the team. Their food supplies had dwindled to almost nothing. He was weak and his stomach ached. There were still helicopters circling the area, ones without the familiar S.H.I.E.L.D. markings so they didn’t dare turn on any radio or tracking equipment. But they’d found this place. A hunting lodge with a fireplace and dried food and a bed and things have been looking up until now. 

Only this couldn’t be happening. There was no way this could be happening because Melinda was a beta. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t employ omegas. Nick Fury might be progressive but not even he could break the law that blatantly. He’d known Melinda for years. She wasn’t an omega. She was a beta. 

Only had dick was still stood to attention in his trousers, starting to ache against the fabric and he hated this. If he’d known there was even the slightest possibility of this he’d have left her here and kept walking because this wasn’t him. 

“I missed some suppressants.” Melinda’s voice was surprisingly clear through the hard wood door. She must have been pressed right against the other side and damn but he could smell her. “I got complacent. It was only meant to be a quick mission. I didn’t pack enough.” 

Phil cursed. FUBAR. Everything was FUBAR. 

“I’ll keep walking,” he said, trying to convince his body to move away from the door. If only he couldn’t smell her. Heat scent was a damn weapon of war, literally. It bypassed the part of his brain that was Phil Coulson and tapped straight into the animal inside of him. The part of him he hated. He hated how his body was already betraying him, grinding against the door to get closer to that smell. 

“Please,” Melinda said. Phil didn’t think he’d ever heard her sound so desperate before. He’d known her for a long time but this…

“I can’t,” he said, appalled at how pleading his own voice sounded. He needed Melinda to understand. She was a good friend. A valued colleague. He’d give his life for her if it came down to it but this...this wasn’t something he was going to have to die for, this was something he was going to have to live with and he didn’t know that he could do that. 

“Phil,” she said, and damn but her voice was choked up almost as though she were on the edge of tears. “Phil, it’s been so long. I can’t do this alone.” 

Of course it had been so long. Of course it had been too long. They both knew the dangers of suppressants, though he personally suspected the government educations programs against them of being biased. They’d probably both heard stories of omegas dying of heats that were too extreme and that lasted too long. 

He’d known. Really, he’d known from when he opened the door. He was going to have to go in there. It was going to change everything and it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do but he was going to have to do it. 

This was the worst impossible situation he’d ever been in but he couldn’t run away. Couldn’t let Melinda die to preserve his own dignity. He couldn’t. 

“I’m going to open the door.” 

He listened to her step back. His hand was on the doorknob before he had time to consciously think about it and the door was opening. The scent was stronger this time, like a wave breaking over him and leaving him shivering and needy. He didn’t choose to take his clothes off, his hands seemed to do it all on their own. Melinda was already naked, tears on her cheeks and her flesh glistening with sweat. She pulled back but he followed her. Inside he screamed as he put his arms around her and she fell against him. 

The flesh on flesh contact was a balm. Blissful, cooling the heat enough for him to regain himself. Enough for him to force out a tear, whisper sorry and pull her up into his arms. She went willingly, wrapping her legs around him but cursing. It was the worst thing. 

Luckily, or unluckily, from there his body took over. Later he would only remember snatches of the actual act. He’d read an article, years before, about how the body did that to protect the conscious mind, the civilised mind, from the things the body was capable of. In the moment Phil didn’t find it much of a comfort. He remembered pinning Melinda to the mattress. He remembered the feel of her. He remembered wanting to scream but the sound wouldn’t come out. He remembered the feeling of tears of his face as he rutted into her like an animal. 

Coming back to himself was like waking up. First there was the general feeling of his body returning to him. The weight of his limbs, the warmth of him. He flexed his fingers, wiggled his toes. Melinda was lying half under him, his dick still buried deep inside of her. Swollen. It had been too long for him, too. They could be stuck like this for hours. Tethered together in a twisted reminder of what he’d just done to her and the bile was rising in his throat and he couldn't…

"Don't you dare throw up on me, Phil Coulson. This is enough of a nightmare already." 

He stilled, then tried to pull back. A stabbing pain shot through him and Melinda gasped too, the worst little broken sound. He’d seen this woman tortured and beaten and she’d never made a sound like that before. And now she had. Because of him. 

He was the worst human being. The absolute worst. She was his friend and he’d...he didn’t even want to know the extent of what he’d done to her. He ached all over. Not knowing what he’d done, that scared him more than he wanted to admit. He could have killed her. It wasn’t unknown for Alphas to kill Omegas in heat rage. At the very least he’d raped her. Neither of them had chosen this. Neither of them had chosen the other. 

He’d wanted the opposite of this. Anything but this. 

His stomach rolled again and he showed his fist in his mouth, biting down on it hard. He couldn't be sick. Melinda was right, this was all terrible enough without them having to lie in that. 

“How long did it take your last knot to go down?” Melinda asked. She sounded exhausted, resigned. He hated it. 

“Thirty minutes,” he said, “But my last knot was when I was 21. I can’t predict this situation.” 

His last knot had been a mistake, too. Young and in the army, going out and knotting a local girl had been the thing to do for the promising young alpha. He’d somehow let it slip to someone he thought he could trust that he’d never knotted and word had spread. His senior officer had dragged him along on a night out. A young local girl in the throes of heat had been there. If he’d known what they were planning he’d have stayed on base that night. He’d have done a lot of things differently. But he was young. It hadn’t taken much for the heat scent to go to his head. For him to lose himself in her. The other had watched, he remembered them cheering him on as he mounted her. She’d sobbed for the entire thirty minutes they were tied. 

He’d never wanted to knot again. 

At least Melinda didn’t sob. He couldn’t imagine her doing that. She was too poised. Too strong. If she started sobbing now then there was no way he was going to be able to control himself. He’d puke and he’d scream and he’d cry and he couldn’t do that. Not now. 

Melinda also didn’t mock his 14 year dry spell. She just lay there, tied to him. Just breathed. He tried to match his breathing to hers. Tried to force himself to take long, deep breaths but it was so, so difficult. It had all happened again. How did other alphas do this? How did they not go mad? Maybe it was different with a partner you’d claimed but he’d never felt the need to do that either. Never felt the need to own anyone else. He was just too broken. 

Too broken and now he’d hurt Melinda too. He’d never meant to hurt her. Never meant to break a friend like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again into the darkness of his own eyelids. She didn’t reply. Of course she didn’t. She had every right to hate him now. Him and everything he was. He bit down on the inside of his own cheek hard, the pain distracting him for a second. He just had to lay here. Lay here and do what she told him and do whatever he could now to minimise what he’d done to her. What their bodies had done to each other. 

***

Phil dumped a bundle of sticks into the grate and looked at it skeptically. The wood he’d gathered before had been rained on while they were knotted so he’d tracked back out into the woods for more. He’d heard other alphas brag about being revitalised after fucking an omega through her heat. He felt the opposite. He felt like his limbs were going to snap at any minute and like it was a fight just to keep them from trembling. He felt like he wanted to cry and go into the woods and never come back. 

He hadn’t just let himself disappear. That would be doing a disservice to them all. He knew, right now, this felt like the end of the world but he also knew it would pass. It had to pass. 

Melinda was sat curled on the chair. Fully dressed but with the one blanket they hadn’t made a mess of wrapped round her. Her expression was scarily passive, as though she’d just given up. The thought of Melinda just giving up scared him more than anything else had. 

He picked up the flint reluctantly. He knew how to start a fire. Every S.H.I.E.L.D. employee knew how to start a fire. Of course they did. It was covered in survival training which was a required course for graduating S.H.I.E.L.D. academy. Phil had always been terrible at survival training. He was sure, though, that if he just struck the one stone against the other like this…

Melinda plucked the stones from his hands. He let her, pulling back a little. He knew that, while he didn’t remember much of what had happened between them, Melinda would remember a hell of a lot more of it. He didn’t want to know what she remembered and then felt selfish for it. He was aware that not remembering was a weird kind of privilege. She’d have to live with things he didn’t even know he’d done. 

He watched from a distance as she set up some kindling and struck the flint, sheltering the small flame with her hand and gentling it until it was big enough then setting it into the sticks he’d set up. The caught quickly and for a few minutes they both just sat there watching their small fire grow. 

Predictably, it was Melinda who found the courage to speak first. 

“Will you tell anyone?” 

For a second he thought she meant to ask if he’d tell anyone that he raped her. That he held her down when she didn’t want him, when it was nothing more than a biological drive. Brag to his friends about how he’d fucked her. Violated her. It occurred to him a second later that she probably meant to ask if he’d tell anyone she was an omega at all. 

“No,” he said, staring into the flames. “Why should I?” 

“It’s illegal,” she said, her voice oddly calm. “What I’m doing - pretending. It’s illegal. But I can’t be some alpha’s toy, Phil.” 

“Of course you can’t,” Phil agreed. “You’re the best agent I know. I wouldn’t want S.H.I.E.L.D. to lose you. Of course I won’t tell anyone.” 

Of course he wouldn’t because how could he judge her for hating her own skin when he did the same? How could he judge her for taking suppressants when, if a pill existed that could take away his alpha, he’d take it in a second. He wouldn't even have to think. 

Everyone had been shocked when he’d tested as an alpha, he’d always been more beta. He’d always been the one to care for his siblings. To help out. To fetch things. Everyone had thought he was a sweet little beta. He enjoyed cuddles as a child. He liked to tell people he loved them and be told he was loved back. 

All of that had stopped when the test came back. He’d been twelve. He barely remembered taking the test, no matter how embarrassing it was. His result was already a given, why should he care? He did remember the results coming back. He remembered the way his dad’s eyes had widened. His dad was a powerful man. He had two omegas, ten betas and a whole brood of children. He’d never had much time for Phil but now, suddenly, he did. Now, suddenly, it was important that Phil stop asking for cuddles. That Phil stopped caring about people, that Phil was more alpha. 

He’d never been good enough at being alpha. He’d just become better at hiding it. 

“What if you’re pregnant?” he asked, watching Melinda warm her hands. 

“I’ll take care of it,” she said, and he believed her. She’d take care of it all. All he had to do was keep quiet and, of course, he was going to do that.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sir, we have an omega here. She claims she’s yours.” 

Phil’s blood ran cold. His phone felt like ice in his hand. There was only one omega in the world who might claim she was his. He hadn’t really spoken to Melinda since, well, since. That didn’t mean he didn’t know he had an obligation to her. 

“Melinda?” he asked, glad that his voice came out steady. 

“Yes,” the man on the other end said, clearly relieved that Phil had passed the first test. “I’m afraid there’s been a problem, sir.” 

Of course there had been a problem. If there hadn’t been a problem he wouldn’t be getting a phone call from a hospital. A public hospital. From a physician who’d got close enough to a conscious Melinda May to work out that she was an omega when no S.H.I.E.L.D. doctor had ever managed that. 

“What’s happened,” he asked when the other man didn’t continue. 

“Well...it would appear that she’d having some kind of miscarriage.” 

He cursed under his breath. He knew the tone of voice the other man had used to say miscarriage. That tone of polite disbelief. Abortion was illegal and they’d never accuse a claimed omega of trying to gain one without proof and he knew Melinda well enough to know that, even in agony, she’d get rid of any proof before going to a hospital. That meant they were trying to prove she was unclaimed so they could freely accuse her. An unclaimed omega had next to no legal standing, after all. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said. 

“Bring her registration documents,” the other man said cheerily before hanging up. Phil cursed. He didn’t have any registration documents. Of course he didn’t. Melinda wasn’t actually his. But he did have some contacts and not a lot of time so he grabbed his wallet and car keys and went. 

One of the good things about working for the law was that a lot of the time you knew the people who made a habit of breaking it. Obviously, most of the time, you brought them in and they weren’t exactly fond of you but sometimes you cultivated them. Sometimes they became informers or contacts and it was to one of them that Phil ran. 

Forty five minutes later, with a much lighter wallet, Phil stumbled into the hospital. The registrar on the desk checked his paperwork, umming and ahhing. He’d set the date of his claim to a week before they’d mated. There was a tense moment which he tried to pretend wasn’t tense as she checked things through before she smiled pleasantly, handed the papers back and told him someone would be down any moment to take him to his omega. 

He’d never felt more nervous than he did sat in that waiting room. He felt as though every eye in the place was judging him and finding him wanting. He was, after all, wanting. He wasn’t Melinda’s alpha, he wasn’t wanted here. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw her. The urge to run was nearly overwhelming but the knowledge of what they’d do to Melinda if he followed through on that urge was worse. 

Eventually someone came for him. A kind beta girl with a ready smile who patted his shoulder caringly and lead him through. He tried to be strong and not wilt into the touch like he wanted to. It wouldn't do to be any less than alpha now. 

Melinda was lying in a mess of sheets. She looked pale and angry and he understood that. Damn but he understood that. He wanted to go over and comfort her but he wasn’t here as her friend, he was here as her alpha and he knew how alphas behaved. He looked her over, met her eyes for a second and saw the defeat there, and then let the nurse whisk him away to talk to the doctor. 

The doctor was an older Alpha with a stern, unforgiving frown. Phil immediately felt like he should apologize for something when he saw the man. He managed not to, though. Managed to shake his hand and sit as the man explained that they’d saved his child ( _HIS CHILD_ ) and that Melinda would be fine with some rest. No long term damage had been done this time. 

He also managed to sit there while the man lectured him on caring for your omega and keeping them safe. Told him Melinda shouldn't have been outside in the first place. What did he expect, when he wasn’t a dominant enough alpha. 

He didn’t punch the man but he came closer to starting a fight than he had in a long time. The very thought of Melinda May, the most competent beta he knew, reduced to breeding stock. Thought of as incompetent. He wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to scream. Surely this was some strange alternate dimension he’d fallen into because this couldn’t be his? 

The doctor eventually let him leave after informing him they’d be involving omega services. Great. Just...great. 

Out in the hall the nice nurse was gone. He made it two steps from the office when, right on schedule, his phone rang. Because of course it did. The problem with working with informers was that they informed on you. He hung up on Nick for now. He’d explain later. For now, he needed to talk to Melinda. 

She still looked small and vulnerable and like someone else in the hospital bed. He could shut the door this time, talk to her alone, so he dared to come near. Not to touch her, of course, but to come near. She sighed, defeated. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why,” he asked, frowning. “I’m sorry. I’m...everything going to be messed up now. I should have thought of a better way. I’m sorry.” 

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Melinda said, forcing herself to sit up. He wanted to reach out and rub her back. He knew it must be aching but that was a beta kind of thing, not an alpha kind of thing. Not a him kind of thing. “I knew it would be a bad idea but I just...I wasn’t ready to die yet.” 

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Phil replied, because he was. “But you know there’s no covering this up now, right? We’re known to omega services. They’re going to expect you to live with me. They’re going to expect you to be an omega. And if anything else happens they won’t be so quick to accept an explanation.” 

“I can’t have a child,” Melinda said, her hands curling into fists. “This can’t be my life.” 

“I’m sorry,” was all Phil could think of to say as there really wasn’t an alternative. If it happened again there’d be an enquiry and they’d probably take her away from him, at least. Lock her up in an asylum, most likely. Drug her until she was ‘rehabilitated’ then find her a new alpha. Alphas who found omegas through asylums were rarely good people. That was the best outcome. At worst they’d find her guilty of procuring an abortion - of murder - and hang her. He couldn’t risk that. 

Though he didn’t know what he could provide as an alternative. He could keep them both safe and a little free. Just for now. 

***

Families work like this. 

There is an alpha. He is strong and he protects everyone else. He makes the most money and has the most important job and doesn’t love. He has a big bedroom all of his own. 

There is an omega. She is not good for much other than having babies. She is very weak and needs to be protected. She probably won’t even care for her own children, just birth and birth and birth. She’ll have her own little room just off the alpha's big one. 

Then there are the betas. The betas can be men or women but are never fertile. They care for the children. The more children an alpha has, the more betas he will need. They love. They love the children. They love each other. They love their alpha and their omega. They’re nature’s followers. 

The betas all share a big room with all the children. All houses are built for normal families because who wouldn’t want to be a part of a family? Traditional families are wonderful! 

***

Phil’s house was small. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford a bigger house, he’d just never seen the need for one when it was only him rattling around in it. His omega room didn’t have a bed. His beta room had one bed for if a sibling came to stay, though that was rare. He wasn’t close with his family. It hadn’t bothered him in a long time. 

He’d thought about staying in the S.H.I.E.L.D. single agent housing but he’d never got on well with alphas in groups. They tended to try to make him be more alpha and he didn’t have time for that. He was very happy with his little, comfortable house. 

It felt very inadequate now he was showing it to Melinda. She hadn’t spoken to him since the hospital though he’d tried talking to her. The doctors and nurses hadn’t spoken to her, only to him. Nick, when he’d finally accepted the call, hadn’t wanted to talk to her. He yelled at Phil about her lying, like Phil was the one at fault. He supposed he was, now. She was his omega now. 

His omega. He didn’t want an omega. He didn’t want Melinda to be his omega. He wanted this all to go away. 

He lead Melinda through the house, showing her every room. He showed her where he kept things in the kitchen. Showed her where the fresh linen was. Anything to keep up the steady stream of meaningless words and not address the fact that she was now, legally, his property. 

“We’re going to have to move the spare bed to your omega room.” 

As the first thing she’d said to him in nearly a full day it wasn’t exactly promising but at least she was speaking. 

“I thought you might be more comfortable sleeping where it is.” 

“I would,” Melinda agreed. “But omega services are going to come here and they’re going to expect me to be living as your omega. We need to move the bed.” 

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. It was becoming almost impulse for him to apologize by now. He’d almost lost track of what he was apologizing for other than the fact that this had happened at all and the sick feeling he still got in his stomach every time he looked at her. 

For a second a strange look came across her face. The closest thing to an expression he’d seem since this entire thing started. For a second he thought she was going to talk to him. Was going to accept or reject the apology or tell him he didn’t need to or apologize to him or cry or hit him or anything. Instead the moment passed. She looked away and he went to disassemble and move the bed. 

***

That night Phil didn’t sleep. He lay awake, listening for the sound of Melinda. He wasn’t sure what he expected. Maybe for her to cry so he could go and comfort her. He was sure if he could only comfort her things would somehow be easier for them both. Maybe he expected her to talk in the anonymous dark on the night, to share something with him that would make this entire thing less awful. He didn’t know. 

Either way, he was disappointed. 

***

A normal day went like this. 

Phil got up in the morning and made breakfast. Melinda didn’t work now, obviously, so she wouldn’t get up until later. He knew it was ridiculous but he treasured the time when he could pretend the house was still his. Pretend his body had never betrayed him and landed him in this mess. Then he’d go to work. 

Work was much the same as always, though some people looked at him with a new respect now they knew he’d made Melinda May his omega. He generally tried to avoid that kind of person. Sometimes he’d get late enough that he’d have to crash in on-site accommodation. Sometimes he’d have to travel for a few days. Those were the best days. 

But on normal days he went home. Melinda would be in the living room or in her bedroom with the door shut. He’d make them dinner. He wasn’t a great cook but he made do. He fell back into making lots of comfort foods. When he was little his favourite of the betas in his father’s house had been a woman called Mel. She’d made wonderful food and he made her recipes now. Thick, creamy mac and cheese. Rich soups. Melinda would always appear for dinner and they’d eat together. She didn’t speak to him unless she had to. She seemed to grow paler, to shrink, with every expansion of her stomach. Every time he looked at her he thought about what they’d done, what his body had done, and he wanted to be sick. 

Most of the food he made ended up in the waste disposal. 

After that he’d read or watch TV. Sometimes Melinda sat with him. Most of the time she went back to her own room. She refused any help. She refused to meet his eye. 

He went to bed as late as he could, trying to wear himself out, but he’d still lay there every night and panic. He panicked that he was going to be a father soon and he didn’t know how to do that. He panicked that they’d lay the child in his arms and, like a good alpha, he wouldn’t be able to love it. He panicked that Melinda might never be happy again. He panicked that Melinda might kill herself. He panicked that, once baby was born and weaned, Melinda’s body was going to make demands of them again and he wasn’t sure that he could live through that again. 

When he slept, he dreamt of their heat and woke up silently sobbing. He’d doze a little after that until it was time for him to get ready for work and it’d all start again. 

***

Phil had made a point of taking Melinda to the hospital appointments whenever he could. The hospital had, generally, been pleased with them, if a little concerned about the lack of a beta in their relationship. That wasn’t too bad, though. A lot of modern families didn’t get a beta until the first child was nearly weaned. 

He had, though, made a point of asking again and again that when Melinda was brought in to have the baby, if he wasn’t with her he wanted to be phoned right away. He wanted to be there when his child was born. He knew it wasn’t very alpha and they frowned at him about it but he wanted it. 

He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised but he still was when he was woken at 6am on a Thursday by a call telling him he was a father. 

It was his fault, of course, for falling asleep at his desk again. He just hadn’t been able to face Melinda’s silences and the crushing guilt of looking at her. He knew he was being a coward, knew he should be there to support her, but he couldn’t. Some days he just couldn’t. 

The cheerful nurse told him he had a daughter. Told him that she was a good weight and healthy and that Melinda had been in labour for 16 hours and that they hadn’t phoned him as “a lot of alphas think they want to be there but when they see their omega in distress they start making trouble for the birthing team”. 

He thanked her curtly and hung up. He was a dad. He had a daughter and he hadn’t been able to be there for her birth. 

He phoned up to HR to let them know he’d be out and drove to the hospital. 

He didn’t feel much of anything but annoyance until he was stood there in the hallway outside the room with his daughter in. His daughter. He had a daughter. A tiny person he was going to have to be an alpha for who’d actually need him like nobody had before and as much as he’d never wanted a person to own he found that, somehow, he wanted this. He wanted this baby and he wanted to love her and he wasn’t sure that he could but he’d try. 

He’d try so hard. 

Turned out he needn’t have worried. When he came into the hospital room Melinda was asleep and so was the baby. The baby. His baby. She was beautiful. Well, no, she looked like any other baby. Small and wet and kind of red, like an angry tomato, but somehow he looked at her and he fell in love instantly. His baby. His daughter. And, for a second, all that mattered in the world was doing right by her. He’d have torn the stars from the heavens just to see her smile. 

“I guess we need to have a conversation.” 

He looked up to find Melinda, eyes heavy with exhaustion, watching him from the bed. He looked down at the baby again for a second. He didn’t want to touch her, didn’t want to risk waking her. Later. He’d touch her later. For now he turned back to Melinda. 

“Alright.” 

“I...I want to make things right for her.” 

“Me too,” Phil said, moving a little closer to the bed. 

“I know this isn’t...I know this isn’t anything either of us wanted,” Melinda said, slowly, like she’d been rehearsing the words for some time. “But it’s what we have and we need to work together now. For her.” 

“For her,” Phil agreed, looking back over at the crib. 

“I’m not saying that I can go back to how I was,” Melinda said, leaning forward and staring at her hands and Phil was suddenly reminded of the last conversation they’d had with him sitting by her hospital bed. “I don’t think I can ever really be happy here, but here I am. I can’t abandon her so here I am.” 

“I’ll do everything I can,” Phil promised, and he meant it. “I wish I could be what you need to be happy but I know I can’t and, well, I’ll do my best.” 

“Okay,” Melinda said, relaxing back into the bed, and Phil felt oddly light. Like a peace had finally been reached. “Just don’t get a beta, alright? This is complicated enough without another person.” 

“Alright,” Phil agreed. It was for the best, anyway. If he had a beta he wasn’t sure he could carry on being their alpha. He was sure he’d mess it up. “Did you name her?” 

“Yes. I called her Skye,” Melinda said, her voice heavy with approaching sleep. 

“Skye,” Phil murmured to himself. He went over again to look at his daughter. Skye. Something big and wide and free without limits. “I like it.”


	3. Chapter 3

A normal day went like this. He got up in the morning with Skye when she cried because mornings still seemed to be hard for Melinda. He’d feed her and spend time with her until it was nearly time for work, when Melinda would emerge to take over. 

He’d spend the day focused on work because he had to. Because work was all that he had, some days. He was damn good at what he did. It was the only place he actually felt something of the alpha he pretended to be. 

When he got home it was different. Melinda would be tired by then. She was good with Skye, he’d never suggest otherwise, but it drained her in a way it didn’t drain Phil. For the first time since he was twelve he got to really take care of someone and there was nobody about to tell him it was the wrong thing. 

He’d take Skye for a few hours. Feed her, bathed her and put her to sleep, while Melinda rested. Then he’d make their dinner now. 

They talked now, sometimes. Mostly about Skye. It was nothing like having his friend back but it was something. He could look at her now without wanting to cry and she seemed to be feeling a little of the same thing for him. Sometimes she even smiled while she watched him nurse Skye. It wasn’t bad. 

At night Skye slept in his room. He’d never been happier to be sleep deprived. 

***

“I think I’m in pre-heat, we need to talk strategy,” Melinda said without preamble, pushing her empty dinner plate aside. Phil blinked for a second then continued to the sink, where he had been going, and set his own plate down. He’d been very intentionally not thinking about Melinda’s heat. Just thinking about it made him vaguely panicked. 

But, well, he knew Melinda. She wouldn’t have approached the topic if she didn’t need to talk about this now. she was also the kind of woman to always have a plan. He moved quietly to sit at the table across from her. 

“Alright, I take it you have a suggestion?” 

She reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, a newspaper advert. She unfolded it and slid it across the table and Phil’s heart almost skipped a beat when he saw it. A knotting dildo. Something Melinda could use to take herself through a heat. She wasn’t going to need him. 

He’d never been to relieved in his life. 

“Alright,” Phil said, picking the piece of paper up. “This...this is great. We get one of these and then I’ll take care of Skye while you…” 

“That won’t work,” Melinda interrupted, reaching over to pick up the paper. “I mean, yes, I won’t need or want you for my heat,” she said it with such assurance that Phil needed to hear it that he couldn’t help smiling at her. He didn’t need or want her heats either. He wasn’t going to have to go to that place in himself again. He was glad. If he had to do that every month…

“We can’t risk seeming abnormal, though. It’ll be strange enough when I don’t have any more children but we can’t risk omega services taking Skye away if they think we’re abnormal. We need to hire in a beta for my heat. I’ll lock myself in my room, you lock yourself in your room, they’ll never know we’re not together.” 

“I’m not sure I like that,” Phil said. “You want me to leave Skye alone with a stranger and lock myself in our room? I just…” 

“Better to be without her for two days a month than forever,” Melinda said, standing like this was already decided. Hell, it probably was. For all that Phil was decisive at work he was terrible for letting people push him around outside it and he couldn't deny that Melinda had a point. He’d be beyond heartbroken if someone came and took Skye away from him now. 

“I’ll make the arrangements,” he said. Melinda nodded and turned, leaving the room. He sat there for a moment thinking. He almost wished they could take a permanent beta, it’d be better than leaving Skye with someone they didn’t know. He’d promised Melinda though and, well, Melinda seemed accepting of him and his caring but if they did take a beta everything would change. They’d take care of Skye and not him and that wasn’t okay. 

Taking care of Skye was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He wasn’t going to risk it. 

***

“Hey,” the lady on the doorstep said, extending her hand. “I’m Eliza and I’m from the beta agency.” 

“Oh, hi,” Phil said, stepping aside to let the woman in. There was something cheerful about her. Blustery. Like a lot of betas. He wanted to throw her out and lock the door and never let her near his baby again. Sadly, that wasn’t an option. Though at least it might make him appear more alpha to some, being physically aggressive. 

“You have a lovely house,” Eliza said, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just the one little one, right?” 

“Yes,” Phil said, guiding her into the living room where Skye was building a tower out of blocks then repeatedly knocking it down again. She she saw him she waved at him and shouted dada, clearly wanting him to go back to building with her. Instead he went she scooped her up, settling her on his hip. 

“Skye,” he said, turning them around. “This is Eliza. Daddy’s got to do a job with Mommy but she’ll look after you while we’re busy.” 

“Heya,” Skye said, waving happily at Eliza. 

“Isn’t she chatty,” Eliza cooed, stepping in to pluck Skye out of his arms and it took all his conviction not to hiss and push her back. “Look at her. You’ve done such a good job considering you don’t have a beta in the house.” 

“We get by,” Phil said, reaching over to stroke Skye’s hair. For now it was still baby soft and downy. It wouldn’t last much longer. He felt like the world was spinning out of control. His baby was a year old. Melinda was going back into heat. He wanted to take these last few moments and crystallize them before things got messy again. 

Too late for that now. 

“If there’s an emergency then...well…” 

“Don’t worry,” Eliza soothed, jiggling Skye on her hip. “I’m trained. I know how to cope with anything that can happen.” 

He doubted that but he didn’t have time to argue. Instead he turned and headed up the stairs. He heard Skye saying “Bye, Dada,” behind him but he knew if he stopped to reply his resolve would crumble completely. 

He went to his room and locked the door. 

There was a faint smell of heat in the air but they’d bought some pheromone neutralising spray and he used it now, liberally. It worked well and once he was sure it was safe he made one last check of his food and water supplies then settled in on his bed to read. He already suspected he was going to spend more time worrying about what was happening with Skye than reading but he couldn’t help that. He just wanted this all to be over. 

***

Three days later he was sat on the living room floor with Skye in his arms. He had to admit that, by all accounts, she seemed unaffected by the couple of days away from him. She’d been a little clingy just after Eliza had gone but settled again quickly. Resilient. Of course she was, look who she had for parents. 

Melinda was sprawled on the couch, still sore from her heat but she seemed more relaxed now she knew she could do it for herself. It had been a long two days but it was over for a month now. 

Skye turned and offered him a block. He took it, dropping a kiss onto her forehead. 

“I love you,” he told her and she grinned at him. Beautiful. He hoped with all his heart she was a beta or, if she was an omega, she was happy with it. 

By all accounts the heat had gone as well as it could. He just wished he understood why he was still so unhappy about it all.


	4. Chapter 4

Phil had a pounding headache and he didn’t suspect it was going to get better any time soon. He’d known the promotion to level 7 was going to come with some stress but two teams had radioed in failed missions today and he was doing everything he could to pull their asses out of the fire without leaving his office. If he could have been on the ground for either op it wouldn’t have gone so badly but Melinda’s heat was coming on. 

He put down the phone to the Australian embassy just as the door crept open. He looked up, expecting to see more trouble, and found Clint Barton stood in the door. That fact that Barton was here didn’t exclude there being more trouble but as the man was currently grounded for bringing in a known criminal when he’d been ordered to kill her he was probably not a threat. 

Barton came into the office and, as he did, he produced a cup of coffee from behind his back. A tension went out of Phil that he hadn’t known was there. He reached out to accept the coffee as Barton set it down. 

“Thank you,” he said, lifting it to his lips and sipping. It was bitter sludge, the canteen stuff, but drinkable and it might keep him going until this crisis was resolved. 

“Just, you know, keeping busy,” Barton said, looking around the office. Barton was an asset Phil had brought in way back during Melinda’s pregnancy when he couldn't be far enough away from the house, but he’d only been in Phil’s chain of command for the last year, being promoted at about the same time, so they’d stayed together. He was a beta. Hard working, caring, weirdly unlucky and often prone to talking back. Phil liked him. Not that he’d ever let on to his other assets that he had a favourite but if he had to pick, Barton was probably it. 

It had made the entire ‘disobeying his orders to bring Natasha Romanov in’ thing a little disappointing but Phil’d learnt to live with disappointment a very long time ago. 

“Well, thank you…” he said, and then his phone rang. He thought about dismissing Barton while he took the call but the poor man looked a little lost, like he might actually be looking for a few minutes' companionship and Phil didn’t want to send him away. Instead he gestured Barton into a chair as he lifted the phone. 

“Agent Coulson speaking.” 

“Phil, it’s starting.” 

“Damnit,” he cursed, jaw tightening. Melinda. Heat. She’d have picked Skye up from nursery by now which meant he’d have to get home quickly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

Melinda hung up without saying goodbye. That was normal for them. It was ridiculous how many things he hated were normal for them. 

“I’m sorry,” he said to Barton, grabbing his briefcase. “My omega’s going into heat.” 

It still left a sour taste in his mouth to call Melinda his omega, even after all these years. Barton looked a little crestfallen so he let the other man sit there while he picked up his phone and called the agency. 

“Hello, this is Milly speaking, how may I help you.” 

“Hello, this is Phil Coulson,” he said, shoving some papers into his briefcase. “I’m going to need you to send someone over.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t have you on file as pre-heat,” Milly said, sounding disappointed in the world. “I’m not sure we have anyone available.” 

“I called you two days ago,” Phil said, he was sure he had. The same time he’d phoned up to HR that he was going to need to stay in town. 

“I’m sure you did,” Milly said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Let me see. It seems only Heather’s available and you put her on a no-visit.” 

“Yes,” Phil said. He remembered Heather. He’d come downstairs on the second day to find his house a mess, Skye in tears and Heather ignoring her as she’d typed away at the computer. It had been a year ago too, he’d have hoped they’d get rid of her by now.” 

“Well, I’m afraid it’s her or nobody.” 

“You need to give me someone else,” Phil said, panic setting in. “We need someone.” 

“May I be frank with you, Mr Coulson?” Milly asked, her tone becoming more business-like. “If I’m being honest, a lot of my betas have put you on our in-house no visit list. It’s not personal, you see, but a lot of betas come here hoping to find a family who’ll keep them. You’ve been using our service for three years and haven’t even requested the same beta twice. I think, maybe, you’d be better finding a different agency more suited to your needs.” 

“You’re saying you’re going to ditch us just as Melinda’s heat’s setting in?” 

“It gives me no pleasure to do it but I genuinely don’t have anyone to send to you. I’m sorry, Mr Coulson.” 

Phil didn’t bother replying, just hung up and let his head fall onto the desk. It was still pounding and this was the last thing he needed today. The logical solution would be to let him take care of Skye while Melinda took care of her heat, once shouldn’t hurt, but Melinda hadn’t been doing well recently. She’d been late to pick Skye up a few too many times, was struggling a little too much, and omega services were very much involved in their business again. He couldn’t risk it. 

He needed a beta to look after his kid and he didn’t know what to do. 

He pulled himself up in his chair and, of course, the first thing he saw was Barton. But, no. No. Of course Barton was a beta but he was also a trained assassin, not a babysitter. He couldn't even ask. 

“Trouble, sir?” Barton asked. 

“Yes,” Phil admitted. “We don’t have a beta. I’ve been using a service but they can’t send me anyone today.” 

“You’ve just got the one kid, right?” Barton asked, leaning forward. Phil noded, turning his picture of Skye round to Barton could see. It was recent, he liked to have a recent picture of his baby on his desk. Reminded him that things weren’t so bad. She was getting big now. Four. It’d be kindergarten soon. 

“Do you think...would you like me to look after her?” 

“Do you have any experience?” Phil asked, trying not to be excited at the idea. It would solve this problem at least. 

“Yeah,” Barton said with a shrug. “I mean, in the circus we didn’t really have families. We all mucked in with everyone else and I did my share of baby watching. Always liked it. Kind of wanted a family but, you know, what I do is more important.” 

“What you do is very important,” Phil agreed. “It’d only be this one time.” 

“That’s okay,” Barton assured him quickly. “I’d just be happy to be doing something other than sit around.” 

“Alright, then,” Phil said, nodding. If the worst happened he’d only be upstairs and Skye was a very resourceful four year old. “Let me call HR and we’ll go.” 

***

“Daddy!” 

He knelt down in the doorway as Skye came running out of the living room and straight into his arms. He scooped her up, holding her close. He really, really wished he could take this time to be with her. A few days of just him and his daughter running around the house sounded like heaven. But he couldn’t take the risk. 

“Hello, baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Did you have a nice day?” 

“Yeah,” she said, squeezing him tight. “Mommy went to lie down already.” 

“Good,” he said, stroking her hair. “This is Clint. He’s going to take care of you this time.” 

Skye leant back to look at Barton suspiciously. True, he didn’t look like any beta who’d come to take care of her yet. He wasn’t exactly in field gear but he was wearing battered jeans, a loose t-shirt and a beaten up old leather jacket. Still he smiled at her and she beamed back and something inside Phil loosened a little. 

“Hey,” Barton said, holding his hand out solemnly for Skye to shake. She did, looking oddly serious. Like they were sealing a pact of some kind. Then spread her arms for him to lift her. He did, holding her carefully and for once Phil didn’t want to snatch her back right away. If nothing else he knew Barton well enough to know he’d do his best. 

“Okay, Daddy, you go now,” Skye said, wiggling for Barton to set her down. He did and, with one last look to Phil, followed her through into the sitting room. 

Well, that was that then. 

Reluctantly he turned and climbed the stairs. He had a feeling that staying shut away in his room was going to be even more difficult this month than usual. 

***

The worst thing about a heat from Phil’s point of view was the way they tended to make him paranoid. It was hard enough to relax with the vague smell of Melinda through the door. He tried his best with the pheromone neutralising spray, it was never enough that he felt anywhere close to losing control of himself but it was like a tug at the back of his head, a constant distraction. Added to that was the worry about Skye. He always worried about Skye during heat. It was hard not to worry more when she was with Clint. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Clint, it was that Clint wasn’t qualified to care for a child. He wasn’t entirely sure what the qualifications were to get on the agency's books but he was sure none of her previous carers' main features has been the speed and accuracy of their shooting. 

Any other time of the month he’d distract himself with work but not even that was possible. If he came back after a heat leave with a pile of completed work they’d soon catch on that something was wrong so it just wasn’t worth it. 

The upshot of all that was that when he finally let himself emerge from the bedroom after what would be a decent amount of time he was anxious and, well, if he was being honest then grumpy was probably the best word for it. 

He’d run through every disaster scenario in his head from Clint having trashed the house to him somehow having managed to lose Skye. He didn’t expect to emerge into the living room to find Clint and Skye sat around the coffee table drawing. Their heads were bent together and Clint was smiling an oddly besotted smile as Skye rattled on about something that had apparently happened at pre-school. 

He hung back in the doorway for a second, watching them. When he didn’t immediately approach Clint looked up, obviously aware that Phil was there, then nudged Skye and pointed her his way. She squealed and threw herself to his feet, charging at him and he scooped down to catch her up in his arms. 

“Daddy,” she said, throwing her arms around him. “Is Mummy feel better?” 

“Yes,” Phil said, stroking her hair back out of her face. “Much better. Did you have a good time with Clint?” 

“We made cookies,” Skye declared, as though that were an answer in and of itself and, he supposed, for her it might be. “Want one?” 

His first instinct was to tell her not right now. His first instinct was to work on getting Clint out of his house so he could, well, be himself. So he could hold his daughter, take a meal up to Melinda, not worry about what anyone was going to think of him. But, well, he was already acting more than a little like a beta. An alpha wouldn't have gone straight to his daughter. And alpha wouldn’t be holding her like this. He normally didn’t care, the betas he took in weren’t people he’d never have to see again but he’d have to see Clint at the office. He needed Clint to follow his orders. 

But he looked up and Clint was looking at him. He didn’t look conflicted. He didn’t look like he was questioning Phil’s ability to lead a team. He was looking at them, instead, with something like longing in his expression. Like there was something here he wanted badly and that look on his face...it made Phil feel something he was pretty sure he wasn’t meant to feel. A low sort of rumbling of contentment, like he could go over there and sit down with Clint and maybe play house for a while. 

But the look couldn’t be for him. It couldn’t. It must have been for Skye. That made sense, she was a wonderful child. Everyone loved her. 

But, still, whatever had put that look on Clint’s face, it made him reluctant to throw the other man out. Maybe...maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him stay for a while. Maybe he could be a little Alpha and maybe it would be enough and he could play house just a little. Maybe. Maybe he could try. 

“Daddy,” Skye whined, indicating that he’d clearly been thinking for too long. “Cookies!” 

“Sure, cookies,” he said, pulling her to him and kissing her head. “Maybe Clint will stay for some cookies too?” 

“Can I?” Clint asked, and yeah, there was something here he wanted badly. “I mean, I don’t want to mess with your post-heat ritual or something. I can go. I just…” 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean for you to accept,” Phil said with a smile. “Come on, we should still have some milk too, unless the two of you drank it all. And maybe we can take a plate up to Mommy?” 

Skye got a shy little smile and nodded at the mention of her mommy and he couldn’t help but smile himself at that. Melinda didn’t always have the best of all relationships with her daughter but she always tried and, well, maybe they could all do just enough and maybe it would be okay. 

***

Phil was hanging up on the third agency when Clint appeared in his door. Apparently the beta agency he thought he’d been on good terms with for years had been talking and now his name was mud and he couldn't get a beta to cover Melinda’s next heat. Sure, they had two weeks yet. The problem was he’d spent the intervening two weeks trying to work it out and so far all he had for his trouble was a phone book full of ‘we must politely decline’. 

He tried not to see Barton appearing as some kind of omen but it was hard not too. 

“I brought the Brazil report,” Barton said, stepping forward and dropping the paper he was holding onto Phil’s desk. Of course, the form should properly have been finished electronically and submitted through the online system but Barton had never seemed to be able to let go of the paper version and, if Phil was being honest, he almost prefered it too. Even if he did have to send all Barton’s reports to be digitised.

“Thank you,” Phil said. He wanted to say something more but he was afraid he’d just end up asking Barton to come help with Skye again next month and there were a host of reasons that was bad. He was Barton’s superior and that meant they shouldn’t be involved personally. He couldn't offer Barton a permanent place in his home which wasn’t fair. He didn’t want Skye to get attached to someone who might just walk out on them. The longer he kept someone around the more likely it was that they’d discover that he and Melinda were not what they tried to appear to be. 

“Are you having a problem…” 

“Will you come and help with Skye on Melinda’s heat again?” 

Damn, he’d known opening his mouth was a bad idea. Barton just blinked for a second and Phil was going to take it all back when the other man noded, slowly. 

“You know I can’t take you on permanently,” he said, watching Barton’s face. Barton just shrugged. 

“If you offered I’d have to turn you down. I don’t think I could ever stomach belonging to anyone, sir. Not even you. And, well, I promised Nat that I wouldn’t leave her alone here and enough people have broken promises to her in her life. But...but I kind of like your kid, alright. I mean, not that I want a kid and a family but...it was nice. I’d like to do it again. Maybe a kind of unofficial, every month thing?” 

“Sounds perfect,” Phil said. It did. Suspiciously so. He couldn’t have a beta. Clint couldn’t have an alpha. They might just be perfect for each other. Life didn’t normally work out like that for him. 

“Okay,” Barton said, grinning a little. “You let me know when your omega’s heat’s coming up and I’ll put the forms in?” 

“I will do,” Phil said, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. 

***

“Clint!” Skye exclaimed in delight. Melinda was still downstairs this time, though it was clear she wouldn’t be for long. Phil saw her reaction as Skye ran to Clint, a grin on her face. 

“Hey, Skye,” Clint said, scooping down to hug her. “I came to play for a couple of days. That alright?” 

“Yep,” Skye said, tightening her arms around his neck. For a second Phil was struck by how un-baby-like her arms looked. His baby. His four year old. How much longer was she going to be his? 

But then Melinda was clearing her throat and he followed her up the stairs, happy for the first time that, when he did, Skye would be completely looked after by someone who already cared about her.


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m here, boss,” Clint said, lazing back in Phil’s doorway. Phil breathed out a sigh of relief. He’d been starting to worry that Clint wasn’t going to make it this time. He’d not missed a heat in two years but eventually he was going to have to. Phil had thought this might be the time. He’d received the call from Melinda and then, ten minutes later, the call to tell him that Clint was on his way back. 

He’d phoned up an agency since then and managed to have a beta put on hold but, well, it might have been easier but he didn’t want that. He had to admit that, in the last two years, he’d gotten used to having Clint around. He liked that Skye thought Clint was awesome. He liked that Clint seemed to enjoy what he was given without asking for more. He liked having someone he knew he could rely on. 

He liked having Clint in his house. 

Clint had clearly come here straight from the mission. He was still wearing his tac vest which was torn and dirty. There was a smear of something that looked like blood across his cheek and his hair was sticking up in every direction. But he was here. 

“Good,” Phil said, standing up from behind his desk. “We don’t have any time to waste.” 

Of course, they did have time to waste. Melinda was probably already shut away. Skye was intelligent enough to stay where she was meant to be. He just didn’t like the thought of his little girl alone. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t cope with it, more that he thought she shouldn’t have to. 

Clint followed him down to the garage without complain. Some time about six months into their arrangement he’d started leaving a drawer full of things in Phil’s beta room so it wasn’t like he needed to stop for anything. 

Phil felt better once they were inside the car with a motor running. They didn’t speak though the drive, Clint was clearly on the edge of exhaustion. As soon as he was in the seat he slumped against the window, eyes drifting shut. Phil...Phil managed not to look that way too often. Every time he did he felt that strange tenderness rise up, the one he’d fought his entire adult life to squash. The urge to wrap Clint in his arms and hold him close and care of him and make him a real part of their family despite what he’d promised Melinda. 

It made him want to lean over and kiss Clint until he forgot about anything else. Sometimes, if he looked too hard, he felt like kissing Clint was the only important thing in the world. But then there was Skye. 

He always had to put Skye first. 

So he drove Clint home in the falling darkness and tried not to look at him too closely. It was for the best. 

***

It was midnight. The house was silent, as far as Phil could make out. There’d been some moving around an hour or so ago but, as was traditional, he had a pretty thick door to his alpha room. It was annoying at times like this. It wasn’t just the inability to spy that made it annoying, he would have liked to listen to Clint and Skye moving around the house. One of the things he missed most with his tiny family was the sense of being surrounded by people. 

Not that they weren’t good. They were good. He just...well...sometimes he wanted things. 

Right now what he wanted was a sandwich. He’d not had a chance to stock the fresh food he normally brought up here for the heat. There was dried food, of course. Snack food. None of that seemed particularly appealing right now. 

Nobody had moved in an hour at least. It was late. He could take the risk. If he went quickly, gathered some food and came back up, Clint wouldn’t see him. Clint wouldn’t know he wasn’t in rut. He doubted Clint took the time to memorise all the contents of the fridge, he’d never miss a little meat and some salad. 

Phil really wanted that salad. 

He wasn’t being unreasonable. He wasn’t. It was a very small risk and his job was built on taking risks. He was almost 100% sure he’d be fine and if he wasn’t…

If he wasn’t he’d deal with that when it happened. He knew, at least, that Clint wouldn’t do anything to hurt Skye. That was the main driving force of his life, after all. Nothing that could hurt Skye. 

Slowly, he pushed the door open. 

It was dark. Everything was dark. He let out a sigh of relief and edged out of the door. He slid slowly down the landing, being careful to avoid the boards he knew creaked. He knew already that if Clint was awake he’d hear but he was betting on Clint not being awake. 

The downstairs was as blessedly dark as the upstairs and he managed to let himself into the kitchen without incident. Once he was in and the door was shut he turned on the light, sighing in relief. He'd done it. Now he just had to get back. He moved quickly, grabbing a place and opening the fridge. It was well stocked, as always. For all he sometimes felt Melinda was a ghost she kept the house well stocked. It'd be a nicer thought if keeping house for him wasn't such an obvious and unneeded waste of her many talents.

He grabbed the things he wanted quickly, sliced meat and vegetables and a little fruit, then turned to get some bread. 

The kitchen door was open. Why hadn't he heard the door open? He should have heard the door open. Clint was standing there in the doorway looking sleepy and confused and after a second he just felt all the fight go out of him. 

He was an idiot. 

Clint knew. 

It was all over.

"You don't look like you're in rut," Clint said, carefully, as though he wasn't sure how to ask the things he wanted to ask.

"No." 

"Is Melinda alright?" 

"Yes," Phil replied. He knew he should volunteer some details but the words seemed stuck in his throat? It was ridiculous. If this had been a mission he would have had no problem explaining, taking charge. If he'd had his suit and a tablet in his hand and the knowledge he was in the right. Instead he had an old captain america T-shirt, some oversized sweat pants, the makings of a sandwich and a strange mixture of terror and resignation turning in his gut. 

"So...you're not taking Melinda through her heat," Clint concluded. "That kind of explains a lot,actually. Like why you've only got the one kid and all. I just...what IS going on here, Sir?" 

"Can we sit down?" Phil asked. Clint hesitated for a second then nodded,coming into the room and closing the door behind him. That was good. At least they wouldn't wake Skye up now. Phil finished making his sandwich while he tried to think of something to say. Any lie he could think of was more ridiculous than the truth but it was how to tell the truth that was important now. 

He only realised he'd made two sandwiches when he came to take them to the table. This was what he got for not concentrating on the task at hand. With a sigh he picked them both up and put one in front of Clint. The other man just smiled and tucked in like there was nothing unusual about this situation at all. 

Phil took a deep breath. He sat down, looked at his plate, then began to talk. 

"Melinda and I, we don't exactly have a traditional relationship. I don't know how far you've heard back in terms of S.H.I.E.L.D. gossip but Melinda passed as a beta for years before, well, before Skye. There was an accident on a mission. She messed up her suppressants. I was the only other person there. She tried...well, we had Skye. 

" I give her as much space as I can. She takes care of her own heat. I just stay out of the way as much as I can."

"And that works for you?" Clint asked, incredulous. "I mean, you just let her."

"Let me assure you, we're both fine with things how they are."

"It's just..." Clint said, shifting in his chair. "Look, I know most of the relationships I've known in my life haven't exactly been healthy but I'm finding it kind of hard to believe that you sit quietly in your room every month while your omega's just through the door and in heat."

"Believe what you like," Phil snapped. 

"I don't mean..." Clint said. He looked so confused. Phil felt sorry for him, he did. He understood that this was a hard concept to grasp. He understood that Clint would struggle with it. He did. He forced himself to calm down. Letting his emotions get the better of him wouldn’t help anyone. 

“I know,” he said, raising his hand to stop Clint. “I know. The truth is, well, I’ve never been much good as an Alpha. I’m sure you’ve noticed that, well, I’m hardly what anyone would point to as a specimen of Alpha manhood.” 

“Well, no,” Clint agreed. “But guys like that are asses anyway. Just ‘cause you, I don’t know, make sandwiches and love your daughter and stuff, that doesn’t mean you’re not an alpha. I mean, you are an alpha…” 

“If you’re asking me if I knot then yes,” Phil said, fighting to keep his voice even. “Yes. My body is Alpha but that doesn’t mean much, Clint. I’ve always wished I were born Beta. I feel like every day at work I use up all my Alpha-ness. It’s one of the reasons we’ve never taken a beta. I’d have to come home and carry on being someone’s alpha and I couldn’t do it. I hate that I have to act like an Alpha at all.” 

“So, what,you smell her heat and it does nothing to you?” 

“If that were true we wouldn’t have Skye. I told you, I’m biologically alpha. The difference is that, well, I smell her and I hate it. I hate how it feels, what it does to me. I don’t want to be an alpha. I don’t think I ever well.” 

“Alright,” Clint said, slowly, like he was processing that. “I mean, you hear plenty about omegas who feel they should be betas and shit but I’ve not heard of an alpha who didn’t want that before.” 

“Who wouldn’t want to be an alpha,” Phil said with a helpless shrug. “All that power. All that prestige. I’d never have reached the position I hold in S.H.I.E.L.D. now as a beta. I know that but it doesn’t make any difference to what I am inside.” 

“So, you lie to keep your job?” 

“I lie to keep Skye,” he said, glancing at the door like she might appear at any moment. “When Melinda found out she was pregnant she took some extreme measures for us to not end up in the situation we’re in now.” He watched as understanding dawned on Clint’s face, watched the brief flash of pain at the thought that might not have Skye. Phil knew that look too well. Sometimes he looked at her and was overwhelmed by the thought he might not have had her. Sometimes he looked at her and thought about the Melinda May he’d known before, the brilliant, strong woman, and wondered if it was worth it. 

“Family services got involved with us. They’re still involved with us. We’re affluent but we’ve never conformed to what they believe a family should be. On the contrary, we’ve refused to take a beta and we hadn’t had any more children. If they found out the truth...we don’t want to risk giving them any excuse to take Skye away. I don’t know what we’d do…” 

“I get it,” Clint said, and he looked serious, like he really did get it. “I’d lie for her, too.” 

“I’m afraid that’s what I’m going to have to ask you for do,” Phil said with a shrug. “Nobody can know about this.” 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Clint agreed. “I mean, I’m not sure I get it all, I’m going to need time to think about this, but whatever happens I’m not going to do anything that’d end up in Skye getting taken away. She’s a good kid. She belongs here.” 

“Thank you,” Phil said, letting himself relax into his seat. As much as he was worried about what would happen to himself and Skye if they took her away he worried more about Melinda. He wondered how long she’d rattle around this house alone until Phil came home to it empty, one way or another. He wouldn’t blame her either. 

He finally picked up his sandwich, taking a bite. It was good, just as good as he’d imagined. It hardly seemed worth it now but at least Clint had promised to keep their secret and he trusted Clint. They sat in silence as they both finished their food and then Phil stood and began gathering his supplies again. 

“Phil,” Clint said, his voice soft and hesitant. “You know you don’t need to hide up there any more, right? I mean, I know.” 

“I know,” Phil said with a sigh, turning to face Clint with an arm full of food. “But Skye doesn’t. She deserves a normal life and this is as close as I can give her and, well, on a practical level she might tell someone at school.” 

“She’s a smart kid,” Clint said, standing and walking around the table. “She won’t tell if you tell her not to. And, well, you say she deserves normal but that’s hardly what this is, right. Even on a good day this family isn’t normal and she seems fine. What she needs is time with the people who love her and I’m not going to complain if you want me to take care of her alone but she thinks the world of you. She’d love for you to hang out with us.” 

“I’ll still need you for every heat,” Phil said, slowly. “Appearances…” 

“I know,” Clint assured him. “But when we’re inside you can spend time with your daughter.” 

“That does sound good,” Phil admitted. “We’ll try, tomorrow. Maybe. I need to sleep on it.” 

“Alright,” Clint agreed. “I guess that maybe I’ll see you in the morning, then?” 

“Maybe you will,” Phil agreed. 

He took his fruit and vegetables and, uninterrupted this time, made his way to the bedroom. He didn’t sleep very much that night. 

***

Morning came before Phil was ready, the light creeping in below the drawn curtains of his window. He felt tired, wrung out, and for all his night of thinking he hadn’t come up with any answers. There didn’t seem to be any sure and certain way to proceed that would be best for them all. 

He lay in his big, cold bed and he studied the ceiling. The same ceiling, all these years. Or, not quite. There was a stain now, in the corner, from the one year the pipe had burst and the damp had soaked in. He’d tried to paint it over but there it was, stubborn. The paper wasn’t as neat as it had been when Melinda had moved here. He hadn’t had time to replace it. Hadn’t had time for a lot of little jobs. Too busy moving. You had to keep going. If he stood still too long then people might see. 

The worst thing that could happen would be for someone to see. 

Only last night Clint had seen. Clint had seen and he hadn’t run away. He hadn’t condemned Phil. He hadn’t called him a freak or phoned family services. 

Phil lay there in the light and he listened. He listened to the quiet sounds of Melinda moving in her room. Cut off from the rest of them. Would it be fair for him to go down and play with their daughter when Melinda was trapped up here, locked away in her room? 

Was it fair to him that he tied himself down because of her? He’d done the right thing by her as best he could. He knew things weren’t alright. He knew she wasn’t happy. A better alpha would know how to fix this but he wasn’t and he didn’t. Maybe it was just one of those things that couldn’t be fixed. 

He listened to movement outside the room. He heard Skye’s low laugh, Clint’s reply, muted through the door, and he ached. He ached to go out and join then. Skye was beautiful and every time he looked she seemed a little bit older and a little bit further away from him. How much more time would he have? 

He should be the responsible one. He shouldn't put their secret into the hands of his six year old daughter. He should stay near in case Melinda needed something, though she never had before. He shouldn’t go and enjoy his daughter when Melinda couldn’t. 

But he wanted. His heart ached with how much he wanted. Secret, stolen hours. He’d lain here so long thinking about Skye and Clint and what they did when he wasn’t with them. Now he had the perfect chance. An invitation to go and join them. To watch Skye learn, to listen to Clint laugh. How could he turn it down? 

A better alpha would have rolled over and read his book, pushed it from his head. Phil wasn’t a better alpha. He put on his sweat pants and a t-shirt and let himself out of the bedroom. 

As he came into the kitchen Skye looked up at him, eyes wide like saucers, and then over to Clint with concern on her face. 

“You don’t need to go yet,” she told Clint, her hand, not as little and unsure as it was in Phil’s memory, tightening around her spoon. “Daddy’s early so you can stay.” 

“He’s going to stay,” Phil promised, padding into the room. He avoided looking at Clint, focusing instead of his daughter. He sat down at the table across from her, a mirror of how he’d sat with Clint last night. “I talked to Clint last night and we decided that you’re a big girl now so we can trust you to keep a secret.” 

“I’m really good at keeping secrets,” Skye said, sitting to attention in her chair. She was clearly desperate to follow that with an example of a secret she’d kept, biting her lip to keep it in, but she didn’t say it. Smart kid. Maybe he could trust her. 

“Then this is what’s going to happen from now. Sometimes, when Mommy’s having her alone time, I’m going to come and play with you and Clint. But you mustn’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. It’s important that everyone thinks I’m with Mommy. You can’t tell your teachers about this. You can’t tell your friends or their betas.” 

“Like being in a secret club,” Skye said, breathless with excitement. “Can we have badges with our names?” 

“We know each other’s names,” Clint reminded her, reaching down to ruffle her hair. She scowled up at her and Phil finally let himself really look. Clint looked pleased, relaxed. He looked comfortable. Phil wished he could freeze the moment, keep them like this forever. 

“But badges are cool,” Skye said, ducking out from under his hand. “And it’s a secret club.” 

“A secret club definitely shouldn't have badges,” Phil said. “You can’t tell anyone you’re in the club.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Skye said with a put upon sigh. “But, this is okay, right? I mean, mommy doesn’t need you? You always said Mommy needs you.” 

“She does,” Phil lied. “She needs us both but this one thing she’s really good at taking care of on her own. When you’re more grown up you might understand but I would never come down here to play if I thought that’d hurt your mom. Do you believe that?” 

“Yes,” Skye said with a quick nod. “So, what kind of games do we play in secret club?” 

***

Phil’s left leg had gone numb a long time ago. His back ached with a dull pain that he knew from experience would persist for hours. He suspected that when he did try and move a million other little pains would make themselves known too, pains that had seeped into his bones as he lay there. 

He wouldn’t have moved for all the money in the world. 

Skye was sprawled across him like a strangely affectionate octopus, all limbs and weight. She was sleeping, snoring a little in the most adorable way. She looked so calm. So peaceful. 

It had been a long time since he’d been able to hold her like that. Normally life was an endless stream of do this, do this, go here, do that. Today had been the first time in a long time he’d spent time at ease with her. The first time in a long time he’d had the luxury of sitting with her long enough that she’d fall asleep in his arms. 

He was very aware that, really, she was too big for this. Very aware that this might be the last time she curled up in his arms like this and slept on him. He didn’t want to do anything to ruin it. 

“So,” Clint said, shifting on the floor below them. He was sprawled there like a cat and if Phil could have moved he wasn’t sure he could have resisted the impulse to reach down and pull Clint up to join that. That would be beyond perfect, lying there tangled together with these people. It had been so long since he’d done that. An alpha wasn’t supposed to need that. 

He couldn’t help but think that the world might be a better place if all alphas got more hugs. 

“So…” Phil prompted when Clint didn’t continue his earlier thought. 

“So, you gonna come out and join us every heat from now?” 

Phil didn’t answer immediately. Couldn’t answer immediately because every part of him wanted to cry “yes” but he knew it was more complicated than that. Skye might tell someone. Melinda might be angry with him. She had to know by now that he wasn’t where he was meant to be. As her heat faded she’d have missed the sounds of him moving around. Anything could happen but he wanted. Oh, how he wanted. 

“I’ll see,” is what he said instead, and from the way Clint smiled up at him he thought he was understood.


	6. Chapter 6

A normal day went like this. Phil would wake up at about 6 while the rest of the household was still asleep. He took care of his morning routine quietly and quickly and was out of the house by 7 at the latest to be in his office by 7:30. 

Work was hectic. He often felt like he lost entire days. He'd sit down, open his e-mail and it'd be time to go home. Work was an endless stream of demands and paperwork and split second decisions. Sometimes, if he was lucky, Clint would come and eat lunch with him. Those stolen moments were always too short. 

He left work for 5. Technically he finished at 4 but it was rare to be away on time. There was always one more demand on his attention. Eventually, though, he was able to escape and make his way home. 

The house would always be quiet. Melinda did better now but it was still like living with a shell of the woman who'd been his friend. She'd have dinner ready to go on the table no matter how often he told her it wasn't necessary. On good days she'd join in with Skye's dinner table chatter, on bad days she'd sit there silently as Skye tried harder and harder to draw her in. 

After dinner Melinda almost always retired to her room, leaving Phil with Skye. They'd only have an hour or so but Phil tried to make the most of it, playing with her until it was time to wash up for bed. Once she was tucked in he'd read to her then kiss her goodnight. 

The house was always eerily silent after that. He'd normally get a little more work done, maybe read a little, then turn in and try not to think. Try to convince himself he didn't hate this. 

But, then, there were heats. 

***

Phil lay sprawled on his back in the middle of what had previously been his living room. It was currently the most spectacular blanket fort to have ever graced the planet. Clint had set them off on this by telling Skye about the circus. They'd pulled out every blanket in the place and tried to recreate a big top but when it became clear that such a large construction was beyond them they'd scavenged every pillow in the house and built a blanket fort instead. 

The end result was a kind of monstrosity. He couldn't help but think that if Melinda saw it she'd have a fit which was a sad though on a number of levels. It was half tent half pillow nest and they'd lit the entire thing with Christmas lights like some kind of pixies grotto. 

Skye had been ecstatic about it, running about with pillows and shrieking in abandon. It was rare to see her so free. Most of the time he was glad for how observant his little girl was to how their family worked and didn't but sometime it was just nice to see her relaxed. To see her being a child. 

Right now she was a sleeping child and he couldn't help but be glad for that too. She was sprawled to his left in a pile of blankets, snoring lightly. He'd thought about moving her but that would mean dismantling the blanket fort to make the bed and, well, there was some appeal to the idea of falling asleep in the blanket fort with his baby and Clint. Maybe a little too much appeal. 

He rolled over slowly to look at Clint. He wasn't surprised to find Clint watching him back. It was almost normal to have the other man looking at him by now. Almost comforting. 

“Hey,” Clint mumbled, rolling onto his side. 

“Hey.” 

Phil knew, really, he should extract himself and go to bed but Skye was snoring and Clint was smiling at him. His bed was still made, of course. He’d never quite managed to tell Melinda about how he spent her heats though he was sure she knew. It was better not to force her to face it if she didn’t want to. Better to slip out the door and pretend he’d never left. 

Clint reached over and gently rubbed his cheek and Phil couldn’t help but lean into the gesture. It was soft and familiar and oddly like coming home. It had been far too long since someone had touched him with simple affection and he couldn’t help but treasure it, turning his head to kiss Clint’s palm. 

Clint stilled, his hand resting on Phil’s jaw and Phil knew, then, that this was a bad idea. Every inch of him wanted to slide over and curl against Clint. To pull the blankets over them and lose himself in the other man. To be together with him. He wanted it so, so much but…

Clint edged closer. Phil knew he should pull away, should break the strange moment that had grown between them but before he could find the strength to do it Clint was leaning forward and pressing their lips together and Phil…

Phil drew back quickly, sitting up and turning, giving Clint his back. His heart was pounding, his every instinct was begging him to turn back and let Clint kiss him again but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

“Phil,” Clint said, voice small and hurt and Phil wanted to punch himself for making Clint sound like that. 

“I’m sorry,” he said instead, curling in on himself. “I can’t. Not...not now.” 

“Phil,” Clint said, laying a hand on his back. “I thought…” 

“It’s not that I don’t care about you,” Phil said, quickly. “Hell, I care too much. That’s the entire problem, isn’t it? Alphas don’t care. They don’t love. They only care about sex and fighting and that isn’t what I want with you. I can’t be your Alpha…” 

“Phil,” Clint said, leaning gently against Phil’s back. “I don’t want you to be. I get it. As much as I ever will. You’re like me. I didn’t get it at first but with you here with us like this…” 

“You get it,” Phil agreed, “But the world won’t. All I could offer you right now is stolen moments. A quick fuck here, a secret kiss there. We could never risk anyone outside this family knowing. I promised Melinda I wouldn’t take a beta. I wouldn’t even be comfortable with Skye knowing, really. It’s nothing. I couldn’t give you anything and that’s not fair to either of us. You’d want more, I would, but I wouldn’t be able to give it.” 

“I want anything you’ll give me,” Clint said. There was a hint of desperation on his voice and it was breaking Phil’s heart to ignore it. “Phil, please. I swear I won’t push you. I just…” 

“I can’t risk it,” Phil said. “Even this feels like too much some days. I can’t be who I need to be and also be this to you. Maybe one day when Skye’s grown and I’m old enough to retire but you’re young, you could go out and find someone more normal.” 

“I don’t want someone more normal,” Clint said, laying his head on Phil’s shoulder. They sat silently for a minute then. Phil wished he could read Clint’s mind or force his own thoughts into Clint’s head somehow. He was sure he hadn’t managed to say what he felt. How could he put into words the sense of elation and terror he felt when Clint was near, like the entire world could see his secret and for a second he didn’t even care. But then real life always pressed in. His daughter, his beautiful daughter. What would happen to Melinda if they took him and Skye away? What would happen to Skye if they found out what a freak he was? Even if he somehow managed to keep his family, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t want him. There were too many risks. 

Risking everything for love was a romantic notion but he had a daughter. She always came first. 

“I get it,” Clint said, voice heavy and resigned and Phil wanted to reach over and hug him but that’d only make it worse. “Or, well, maybe I do. One day, though. If I wait.” 

“I don’t want you to wait.” 

“Well, you don’t get to decide that,” Clint said, sliding his arms around Phil and squeezing. “You’re worth it. And, until then, we’re friends.” 

“Yes,” Phil agreed. Because he could do friends. It would be enough. It had to be enough. “Let’s sleep. It’s going to be hard work taking all this down tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” Clint said, reluctantly untangling himself from Phil. Phil let him go and wished with everything he had that things were different, even though he knew how hopeless wishing was. He didn’t sleep much that night, he doubted Clint did either.


	7. Chapter 7

Coming back to work after a heat was always a little surreal. He avoided the news for the duration. If he was genuinely doing what he claimed to be doing he’d be too busy to look anyway and it only made him anxious if he knew something was happening and he couldn’t be involved. 

Phil arrived at the Triskelion early as usual, dispatching Clint to go clean up before he headed out to whatever assignment he was on and Phil headed up to his office. 

He realised as soon as he stepped in the door that something big had happened. There were dozens of notes shoved under the door. S.H.I.E.L.D. communications didn’t officially involve notes shoved under the door but Phil knew as well as anyone that, in times of crisis when an Agent wasn’t available the people who wanted him would do anything they could to be first to attract his attention when he got back. Hence the stack of notes. There was no way this was a good thing. 

He stepped over them all for now and headed for the desk. The message light was flashing on his phone but he ignored that too, heading to the internet instead. If it was something that big it was possible that it was in the news…

He didn’t need to go further than the front page. New York. Aliens and gods and property damage and super heroes. He was glad he was already sitting down or he might have fallen down. 

His computer had loaded by now so he signed into his e-mail and searched for Jasper. There were e-mails from him, thank god, though the last one was over twenty-four hours ago. He liked Jasper a lot. He was the kind of laid-back guy who never went in for the macho posturing alpha bullshit Phil had to put up with from some of the other Alphas. When Phil had turned down the Avengers, Jasper had been the first person he suggested to coordinate the Avengers project instead. 

Not that he’d wanted to turn down the Avengers. It had involved a lot of soul searching. Captain America? It was like a dream. And he’d get to be on Clint’s team. And Natasha’s. He liked Natasha well enough, knew Clint cared about her. Sure, there was putting up with Stark but every job had sacrifices. 

In the end the reason he hadn’t was the same reason he didn’t do a lot of things he’d like to. It’d have taken him away from Skye. He’d have had to take responsibility for Stark, spend time on that 084 out in the desert last summer. It sounded like an adventure but it also sounded like abandoning his daughter. If he’d been single. It he hadn’t been a dad. 

The most recent e-mail the system had flagged for Jasper wasn’t from him but was tagged as situational update so Phil opened it. It took him a few seconds to process that he was reading a list of the confirmed dead. A few more to realise that, yes, Jasper was on that list. No cause of death listed but he was there. Dead. 

Dead doing a job that Phil had put him forward for. Dead doing a job that, in other circumstances, Phil might have been doing. 

He had to stop for a second at that thought. That could so easily have been him. Nearly had been him. He could barely believe Jasper was gone but as terrible as that was he couldn’t help but feel thankful that he hadn’t gone ahead and taken the job. He couldn’t leave them yet. 

He clicked back out of the e-mail and scanned his inbox. This was going to take some sorting out. He needed to get started. He had to know what had happened. 

***

Clint appearing in his office at midday was nothing new. Clint would normally arrive with a coffee and something pretending to be food from the cafeteria in an attempt to try to get Phil to put his work down for five minutes and eat something. Clint wasn’t carrying food today. Today he was pale and his jaw was tight in a way that told Phil just how Clint had spent his morning. It told Phil that Clint already knew about Ward, covering for him in New Mexico while he came back for his heat leave, taken by Loki. He already knew about how the Helicarrier had almost been downed. Already knew about Jasper and about the Avengers and everything. 

Clint locked the door behind him. Phil was moving before he was consciously aware that he was going to move, circling around the desk and reaching for Clint. Clint who was alive and hadn’t been captured by Loki. They’d had to kill Ward to stop him. Ward dead. Jasper dead. But he and Clint here and alive. 

Clint stepped into Phil’s arms, clinging tight and all Phil could do was cling back. 

***

Phil had never brought Clint home with him when it wasn’t a heat before but, given the circumstances, he didn’t really want Clint out of his sight. Clint seemed to return the sentiment if they way he’d spent the afternoon curled up on Phil’s office couch watching him work was anything to go by. When he’d stood to go home Clint had just followed him and Phil, well, he hadn’t protested. What was there to protest about? He didn’t want to leave Clint behind either. 

When he came into the house he wasn’t surprised to find Melinda sat in the living room, her eyes glued to the TV screen. Skye was colouring quietly on the floor but looked up when they came in and, after a half-second of confusion when she spotted Clint, jumped up and ran to them. 

“Clint,” she cried out, grabbing the other man’s legs. “What are you doing here?” 

“Just came for a visit,” Clint said, tensing a little as though it had only just occurred to him that he’d be anything other than welcome here. His eyes shot to Melinda and Phil turned to look at her too. For a second she didn’t acknowledge them, just stared at the carnage on the TV screen. Then, slowly, she turned to them. 

“You were offered that position, right?” she asked, gesturing at the screen. Phil nodded. He didn’t tell her that the man who had taken the job had been killed where Skye could hear but he saw Melinda jump to that conclusion and didn’t stop her. For a second her expression was blank, like she was processing it. He couldn’t blame her. He’d take time to process it, too. Maybe her life would be easier without him. She had a child so she could apply for single omega benefits or even disappear. Eventually, though, she expression settled into relief and she came and hugged him. The touch was brief and impersonal, nothing like how he and Clint had clung to each other in his office, but it was still more affection than she’d shown him in a long time. 

When she pulled back she nodded at Clint and then retreated to the kitchen. Clint raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment. He knew enough about Phil’s mess of a life to know that what had just happened was unusual. 

“Dad,” Skye said, drawing his attention. “Since Clint is here can we play?” 

“Sure,” Phil said, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “As long as we’re sensible.” 

She huffed a little at the ruffled hair, reaching up to straighten it, then grabbed Clint’s hand and towed him over to where she was drawing. Phil set his briefcase down and shrugged out of his jacket. Now would be a really good time to get some paperwork done while everyone was busy. He’d be able to sit and concentrate…

He left the briefcase where it was, heading across the room to join Clint and Skye on the floor with her colouring books. She grinned at him when he did and handed him a green pen and for a second he could forget about the news and the world outside and how close they’d all come and lose himself in this tiny little family he’d somehow made for himself until Melinda came and told them dinner was ready. 

***

It was late. Melinda had gone to bed hours ago. She’d stayed downstairs a little longer than she normally did, actually having a little conversation with Clint. Skye had seemed shocked by it and had been pretty quiet until Melinda had gone to bed and she’d dragged them into a game of pretend that had only been cut short by bedtime. 

Now, finally, it was just him and Clint again. He felt more settled, more at peace with what had happened. Maybe if he’d been there he’d have died, maybe he wouldn't. It didn’t happen because that was one of the many things he’d passed over for his family and his family had inadvertently kept Clint safe too. That could only be a good thing. 

If he let himself think about it too much he’d be worried about how much he’d sacrifice to keep Clint safe. Not as much as for Skye, obviously, but a lot. Far more than he should. He tried, he did. He’d tried for years to be an alpha. He didn’t want Skye to grow up with a father who was incapable of normal relationships. He didn’t want Melinda to have given up everything for an Alpha who really only wanted to care for people. He knew love wasn’t something he should want but he did. He didn’t want children and power and influence. He didn’t want to own and control. He wanted Clint wrapped in his arms. He wanted Skye happy and safe and a world where Melinda could go and do her own thing and nobody would look down on her. He just wasn’t strong enough to make that. 

He wasn’t strong enough to do anything. 

Something touched his hand. He looked down to see Clint’s fingers brushing softly against the back of his hand. That would be an Alpha’s signal to pull back. To say something about clingy betas. To go back to his big, cold bedroom alone. But he wasn’t that man. He’d tried to be for years but he couldn’t be. He’d spent years trying to convince himself that all Alpha’s felt like him really and there was nothing wrong but he knew it was a lie. 

He wasn’t an alpha. Not in any way that counted. He was a beta and he was in love with Clint Barton and today had scared the shit out of him. Today he was going to be selfish and take something just for himself and not worry about it. 

He reached over and took Clint’s hand. He let his eyes move up to see Clint smiling at him softly and he leant his head in to rest their foreheads together and for a second they just stayed there, breathing each other’s air. It somehow felt like the most intimate thing he’d done in an age. After a while Clint’s hand came up to rest on the back of his neck, holding him there. 

“Sometimes I daydream,” Clint said, quietly, like he was sharing a secret. “I think about just packing up everything and running away into the night. Me, you, Skye. Melinda could come too, if she wanted. We could find a new place. Tell them we were all betas, they’d never know. Find new jobs, build a new life. Things could be different…

“I know you wouldn't go for it. Not really. I mean, I know you wouldn’t leave S.H.I.E.L.D. and I know that even if we did it wouldn't actually fix anything but it’s a pretty sweet dream.” 

“It is,” Phil agreed. He couldn’t say it wasn’t something that hadn’t flittered through his mind before. He’d never let himself focus on it too closely, though. Clint was right, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he didn’t have S.H.I.E.L.D.. He and Melinda had talked about a kind of similar plan in the early days, the days where they were still desperately trying for solutions instead of wearing the same tired paths through the mess they’d built for themselves. They’d both agreed, though, that S.H.I.E.L.D. was too important, the work he did was too important. And, after all, they’d only be tracked down. Running from an intelligence agency, not a great idea. 

It was a nice dream, though. A safe house. Him and Clint and Skye and Melinda. Maybe she’d learn to smile again. Maybe Clint would sleep in a bed with him. Maybe…

“I should go,” Clint said, drawing back reluctantly. 

“Stay,” Phil said. He knew his tone made it sound like begging and he didn’t care. “Please.” 

“If I stay I’m never gonna want to leave,” Clint said. He leant in to kiss Phil’s forehead quickly and then stood. Phil wanted to protest. He wanted to throw himself at Clint, beg him to stay forever. He couldn’t, though. There was always the promise he’d made to Melinda. And, as nice as Clint’s dream was, it would never work. Maybe when Skye had been an infant but too much time had passed. Things were too bad. 

He didn’t say anything as Clint went. There was nothing to say.


	8. Chapter 8

Phil had been lucky with the Battle of New York. He wasn’t so lucky when it came to the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.. He’d have given anything to have not been in work that day. To have been home where he could receive the news in pieces. Where he could walk away as the organisation he’d given his life to slowly crumbled around him. 

He wasn’t at home that day. He was in the thick of things, shooting Hydra agents who’d been his agents only hours ago and trying to coordinate an escape from the building before Captain America brought it down around them. There was no time to process, no time to panic, only action then the slow wait as he watched everything he’d sacrificed for go down in flames. Nick dead. Half of the organisation Hydra. Clint god only knew where. All he registered in that moment was that life as he knew it was over. 

He knew the responsible thing to do would be to step up. To try to take some kind of control of the scared agents and deal with the incoming law enforcement. He just couldn’t, not today. He stared quiet, stayed unobtrusive, and slipped out of the crowd. 

It wasn’t his fight any more. He couldn't fix this and all he wanted was to go home. 

***

Someone was knocking on the door. Phil reached for his gun before he processed anything else, flipping the safety off as the knock came again. Melinda's door was already opening, she had her gun drawn too. Still acting like agents, though of course neither of them were Agents any more. One of them hadn't been for quite a long time. Not that he was going to protest about Melinda having the gun and the reflexes to use it, still. With S.H.I.E.L.D. gone he was very much aware that he was suddenly without protection from anyone who might want to come after him. Over his time in S.H.I.E.L.D. he'd amassed quite a few people who might want to come after him. 

The knock came again and he nodded at Melinda. She let him go first, falling in behind him. Maybe this was nothing but maybe it wasn't. They'd talked about the possibilities. They had a plan. As ridiculous as the situation was it felt good to have Melinda backing him up again. 

The knocking came again. He crept down the hall, leaving Melinda at the foot of the stairs. The house was fitted with security and he reached out now, flipping the screen mounted in the wall on and pulling up the video feed of their porch. 

The people outside weren't trying to hide. They were slumped, dressed in civilian clothes, had their heads down. They were also completely recognisable. He pulled open the door and quickly ushered Clint and Natasha in. 

Melinda relaxed, lowering her gun when she saw who it was. They both looked tired. It was understandable. He hadn't heard anything from Clint since, well, since. He'd seen Natasha on TV just that morning, her senate hearing covered by the news. The news which was, thankfully, wholly in favour of the Avengers and what they stood for. 

"Sorry," Clint said, scuffing his shoe on the carpet. "We both need to lie low for a while, maybe. I couldn't think of anywhere else..."

"I'm glad you came here," Phil said, because that much felt safe. Felt far enough removed from the part of him that wanted to scream that Clint should never even have considered anywhere else. That wanted to pull Clint into his arms and never let him go and finally escape together with him. 

"It'll only be for a few weeks," Natasha said, looking past Phil to meet Melinda's eye. "I'm looking into other options, I just need to disappear until all of this calms down." 

Melinda nodded, though she didn't say anything. She turned and headed back up the stairs. Phil followed her, guiding Natasha and Clint to the beta bedroom where Skye was still curled up asleep, as though Clint didn't know the way. He'd have liked a second alone with Clint but it didn't happen and that was alright. He went back to bed and slept better knowing Clint was safe and close by. 

***

The truth was that, with S.H.I.E.L.D. gone, Phil didn't know what to do with his life. Sure, he'd talked about it in a fantasy but the nice thing about fantasy was that you didn't have to be practical about it. You could just dream. Now he was faced with the question of what to do with himself he didn't know where to start. He felt like he'd somehow exhausted his decision making capacity and now S.H.I.E.L.D. was gone...

So he was very glad to get up in the morning and find Clint in his kitchen, sat giving Skye her breakfast. Clint was no more an Alpha then he was but, maybe, together, they could muddle through this. At least he wasn't going to do this alone. 

"Hey," Clint said, noticing Phil and smiling that wonderful smile he only used for them. "How are you feeling?" 

"I'm fine," Phil said, automatically as little ears were listening. "Good. How are you?" 

"I'm good too," Clint said, meeting Phil's eye. It was reassuring, to see Clint here, in front of him and well. To have everyone he cared about safe and together. He let himself sit down at the breakfast table and take the cup Clint nudged across to him. Clint's coffee was always perfect. 

"Is Natasha awake too?" he asked, sipping at his coffee. 

"She's still asleep. Deserves it too, really. It's been a long few weeks for her. I'm sorry I haven't been in touch..." 

"Hey, it doesn't matter," Phil interrupted. "You came back when you could." 

"I'm glad you're back," Skye interrupted, swinging her legs under the table. "I think we should go to the beach or the park!" 

"Don't bother Clint," Phil said, giving her a disapproving look. "He's probably tired." 

"But it's the summer holidays," Skye complained, slumping back in her seat. "And I thought it'd be a really good summer because you're home now but you're sad that you've got no job and mommy's sad like always and I want to go play!" 

By the end of her little speech Skye was clearly on the verge of tears and Phil just didn't know what to say. He knew, logically, of course, that Skye was aware that Melinda wasn't happy with their situation but she'd never said anything about it before and, if he was honest, he hadn't thought about how his own behaviour was affecting her. He was so used to her just coping with things, just quietly and sensibly getting on, that he sometimes forgot that she was only eight years old. 

"Hey," Clint said. He passed around the room and pressed an arm on Phil shoulder on his way to hug Skye. "No, we can go to the park. I'd love to go to the park." 

"Of course," Phil said, watching his daughter wrap her arms around Clint's neck. "I mean, yes. Of course. I'll come with you. I'm sorry. I haven't..." 

"It's okay, daddy," Skye said, freeing herself from Clint's arms and reaching for him. "I love you." 

"I love you too," Phil promised, pulling her close. He could do this, now. He could focus on Skye. That'd be enough for now. 

***

Phil didn't see Natasha for the first two days. Clint disappeared to talk to her a few times but she stayed out of the communal areas of the house and Phil was selfishly glad for that. He liked Natasha, she was a good agent and reminded him in a lot of ways of Melinda before all this hell. He'd just never trusted her in the way he had Clint, never known her in the way he did Clint. He wasn't comfortable with her not seeing him as an alpha. 

But with her hiding and Clint here it was easy to pretend it was a heat, they they were in their secret hidden world. 

Melinda kept mostly to herself too but that was nothing new. She'd been avoiding him since he didn't have a job to go to any more. He understood, as much as it had messed up his life, it had changed everything for her, too. 

It was the third night before they all sat down together. Phil and Clint had been out all day with Skye. It was easier to make her happy away from the oppressive atmosphere of the house. When they'd come in they'd found Melinda in the kitchen cooking and neither Phil or Clint had wanted to question it. Skye had run off to join her mom straight away and they'd left her to her mom time. Clint had gone to Natasha and Phil had retreated to his room. 

The last few days had been wonderful but he knew he was only stalling. He was going to have a make a decision soon. The CIA and the FBI had both contacted him, offered him positions. He had been high in S.H.I.E.L.D., he had prospects. He could take a job, they could carry on as they had been. He, Skye, Melinda. It would be easy. 

Or he could do the dangerous thing. He could take Clint, Skye, Melinda. They could do what they'd talked about, try to build a new life. If Melinda wanted. He just worried it wouldn't be fair on any of them. He'd never get a job as well paying if he ran. They'd have to sell the house, buy a smaller one. They'd have to make do. Skye would have to leave all her friends, start again. Families without alphas were at risk, things were better now than when he was young but alphas still saw beta-only families as targets. 

He wished it was easy. He knew he needed to talk to them but it had been forever since he'd actually spoken to Melinda. She couldn't stand him, he couldn't look at her without thinking of all the ways he'd hurt her. 

Everything was a mess. 

Before he could make anything like a decision Skye came up to call him down to dinner. 

He knew, really, that them all being sat down at the table was the ideal time to bring it up. Natasha had even joined them, sitting quietly beside Clint and watching them like she was trying to work them all out. Skye chatted away as usual, covering the awkward silences the adults created. 

He meant to say something, he really did. Meant to lay out their options. Meant to be brave. 

"My heat's nearly here," Melinda announced towards the end of the meal. Phil would like to say she'd said it as he was about to say something and she stopped him but there was no point in lying to himself. 

"Okay," was all Phil could think to say. "We can take care of Skye..." 

Melinda nodded then just rose from the table and walked out, as though her work here was done. Phil couldn't help but think of it as a stay of execution. 

***

Phil woke up that night to soft footsteps in his bedroom. For a second he thought it must be Clint and he rolled over but the feet stilled when he did so he forced himself to settle again, mimicking a natural roll in his sleep. Whoever it was waited for a good five minutes before continuing to move. He cracked his eyes open to see Natasha. He watched her as she approached Melinda's door and gently pushed it open. For a second the smell of heat overwhelmed him and he gasped but neither of them noticed. They were too caught up in each other. Melinda had met Natasha at the door and they fall into each other's arms, kissing and touching and then the door was shut again. 

Phil just lay there for a second fighting the unwanted rush of lust. He hated the way it made him felt, had almost forgotten how bad it was since he'd begun spending most of Melinda's heats with Clint. 

Once he was in control of himself again he rolled out of bed and, softly as he could, padded to the beta room. Skye didn't look up when he came in but Clint was awake and waiting for him. He reached out, grabbing for Phil and Phil crawled into bed with him, holding him close. He didn't even need to feel bad about it for once as Melinda had someone too. For once, he was allowed this. 

***

"Daddy, can I sleep down here?" 

The blanket fort had been reconstructed as they were trapped in the house for the day. Phil wasn't even sure it was necessary any more but it was habit and they'd decided to stay in without thinking. Skye was already in her pajamas, lying in a pile of cushions and blankets with her cuddly toy clutched in her arms. 

"Of course you can," Clint interrupted before Phil could say anything. "But me and your daddy can't stay down here with you. My back hurt too much in the morning the last time." 

"That's alright," Skye said, pulling the blanket up over herself. "I am eight, you know. I can sleep on my own." 

"Okay," Phil said, smiling down at her. "Do you still want a bedtime story or are you too old for that too?" 

"I am NEVER going to be too old for a bedtime story." 

Phil desperately wished that was actually true but he was pretty sure it wasn't. Either way, he settled in and read her a story before kissing her on the forehead and leaving her to her adventure. Clint had already headed up to bed and Phil hadn't thought much of it until he came into the bedroom to find Clint naked, sat in the middle of the bed waiting for him. 

The thing was, he knew that the idea of romantic love being between betas and sexual desire between alphas and omegas was outdated. He knew many betas had fulfilling sexual relationships, though Alphas still denied having feelings. He just hadn't expected Clint to be quite so blatant about it. 

Apparently Clint had seen something in his face as he reached for the blankets, already blushing, and Phil found himself scrambling to snatch the blankets back 

"I'm sorry," Clint was saying, clutching the blanket. "I didn't..." 

"Clint, it's alright," Phil said, giving up on the idea of fighting for the blankets and reaching out to take Clint's hand instead. "I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." 

"You don't need to say that," Clint said, refusing to meet Phil's eye. "I should have thought. I mean, wanting sex isn't really a very beta thing anyway. I just thought..." 

"I do want sex," Phil said, the words feeling like a release. "With you. I have for a long time. I want to be with you in every way you can think of." 

"Oh," Clint said, eyes flying up to meet Phil's. "But..." 

"You shocked me," Phil said. "I knew you were angling for alone time but I thought we'd talk first. There's so much to talk about." 

"There is," Clint agreed. "I just...we might only have this one night and I want you. Kind of a lot, kind of for a long time. Everything's changing, I don't know where any of us are going to be next heat and..." 

"There will be more time," Phil promised, already intending the promise to be one he keeps whatever happens. "We'll make more time. Things are changing, Clint, but that doesn't have to be bad. I've been thinking, if we're ever going to go now would be the time. Make a new life. I need to talk to Melinda but...if that's still something you want..." 

"That's everything I want," Clint said, reaching forward to touch Phil's face like he couldn't quite believe this was real. "Phil, that's all I've wanted for years. But I know you've probably had better offers." 

"I won't say I don't have worries," Phil said, reaching up to touch Clint's face, gently stroking his cheeks. "We all need to talk together about this, I can't make you any promises. But I want you." 

"Then take me," Clint said, shifting forward to kiss him, and Phil couldn't argue with that. Couldn't even think of a reason not to. Skye was safe. Melinda was safe. Family services hadn't visited in over a year now. He could have this. 

He could have this. 

The realisation was heady and he reached for Clint immediately, glad that Clint had stripped after all. He ran his hands down Clint's sides, urging him closer, then wrapped his arms around Clint who obligingly knelt, pressing their bodies together. After so long - wanting this but never being allowed it - it felt like heaven. 

Clint kept the kisses going with a kind of desperation that would have been worrying if Phil had any brain cells left over for worrying. Like Clint thought Phil might change his mind at any second which was clearly a ridiculous notion. There was no way Phil would be able to change his mind now. This was happening. Still, Clint was a little desperate. He stripped away Phil's clothing and Phil let him, let Clint remove his shirt until they were pressed chest to chest. Let Clint loosen his pants so Clint could get his hands down the back of them. 

He explored Clint's body in turn. Clint was beautiful, of course. Hard and demanding and entirely unlike anyone Phil had touched like this before. It was disorientating and overwhelming and wonderful. It was, at the same time, like discovering a new and exciting land and also like coming home. 

Eventually Clint climbed off him long enough for Phil to lose his trousers too, though he left his underwear on. He got that Clint might not want to be confronted with that just yet, though he was already growing hard. 

Luckily, Clint didn't seem to be in any rush. He almost seemed like he'd just be content to kiss forever and Phil couldn't say he didn't like that idea. Laying here forever kissing Clint might just be his idea of heaven. It didn't take long for Clint to climb on top of him, pressing him back down into the mattress. Didn't take long for Phil to lose himself to sensation. It had been so long and this was so very different from the last time he'd been with someone. He'd almost forgotten how wonderful it could be. 

The situation was brought back into sharp focus as suddenly Clint's hands were sliding around from his ass and reaching to cup his dick. He gasped, bucking into Clint's hands without thinking, then forcing himself to pull back a little. His knot wasn't swollen yet but the evidence of it was there. Some days he felt like his dick was the only thing about his that was undeniably alpha. Some days he wanted to cut the damn thing off and burn it. 

"You don't have to touch it," he said, reaching down to cup Clint's hands. "I'll understand..." 

"I want to," Clint interrupted, gently stroking Phil again and making him gasp. "Do you not get that by now? I know you. I know what you are when what you aren't and I don't care. I want every piece of you and this is a piece of you so I want it." 

"It's just...some betas don't like it." 

"That's because it swells up and it can hurt," Clint said with a roll of his eyes. "We don't get handy pheromones to help us through like omegas. But, when you fuck me, I'm going to be so ready for you and so open you'll just slide in and out and it won't hurt." 

Phil didn't have an answer to that. Not to the certainly of the when, not if. Not to the soft smile on Clint's lips. Not to the idea that maybe Clint didn't need him to be an alpha or, really, beta in every way. That he could just accept who Phil was and the body he had and that could be enough. 

Together they could be enough. 

But he couldn't think of that right now. If he tried to he'd go crazy. Instead he thrust into Clint's hand again and Clint got with the program, tightening his grip. Some day Phil would fuck Clint, nice and long and slow. Some day Clint would fuck Phil. They didn't need to rush. For now he could just enjoy the feel of Clint's hand on him. The feel of Clint under his hands. 

Really, if he'd had the capacity to be anything but awed and joyful, he'd have been embarrassed by how quickly he came once they established a rhythm. Any embarrassment, though, would have been quickly dealt with when Clint came soon after, gasping into Phil's mouth as he bucked into Phil's hand and Phil wrapped his arms around him and stroked his back and held him tight and how could he be anything but happy because this was wonderful. This was perfect. 

***

If some part of Phil had worried that waking up the next day post-sex might have reminded him of that disastrous last time (Melinda and recrimination and the dirty feeling inside that still hadn't entirely faded even after all these years) he needn't have. Waking up with Clint couldn't have been more different. To begin with, it was familiar. The sex was new but the sleeping pressed together was something he knew a lot about. He also didn't feel dirty or wrong or like he'd taken advantage. He felt right, home. Safe. It had been a long time since he'd last felt like this. 

Clint was still sleeping and he managed to slip out of the bed without waking the other man. He slipped into his sweats and backed out of the room, heading for the bathroom to relieve himself. He hummed to himself as he washed his hands, today was going to be a good day. 

When he came out of the bathroom the first thing he saw was Skye. She was sat on the top step, head bowed, something clutched in her hands. It was so unlike her that he nearly stumbled in his haste to get to her. 

"Sweetie," he said, kneeling beside her. "What's wrong?" 

"Are you going too?" Skye asked, looking up at him. 

'Going?" he asked, stroking her hair. "What do you mean?" 

"Mommy's gone," she said, holding out the object in her hand. A letter. He took it, looking down at it in disbelief. His name was scrawled on it in Melinda's handwriting. "She came and gave me a hug goodbye and she said she'd come and visit me but she's gone." 

"Oh baby," Phi said, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. "I won't leave you, I promise." 

Skye made a little, snuffling sob and he pulled her closer, gently stroking her hair. He hadn't thought Melinda would do this but, now she had, he wondered why he'd never considered it. Maybe he'd just presumed she'd never leave Skye. She loved Skye, he knew that. 

As he rocked his daughter he opened the envelope. One sheet of paper begging him to forgive her. She had never wanted this, though she loved Skye. It just wasn't enough. She couldn't go on like this. She'd thought about killing herself so many times and now there was another way out. She'd gone with Natasha, he shouldn't look for them. She hoped he'd be happy. 

"She loves you," he said, pressing a kiss to Skye's hair. 

"I know," Skye sobbed. "I just wish being in our family didn't make her so sad." 

"Me too," Phil said, dropping the letter to pull her even closer. "But I won't leave you. I promise." 

"Hey." 

Phil turned to see Clint stood in the door to the bedroom. He looked sleep-ruffled and beautiful and Phil wanted to hold on to him and never let him go. "What's wrong?" 

Phil nodded at the letter and Clint picked it up, reading it over and frowning. He looked down at them, still sat on the top step, then sat down with them and wrapped his arms around them both. 

"I'm not leaving either," he said, holding tight. "The two of you are stuck with me." 

"Good," Skye said, releasing Phil to cling to Clint. She seemed calmer now, her eyes still puffy but her breathing even and her arms not as tight. He was humbled over again by how grown up she was, how mature. He wasn't sure she really understood that Melinda loved her, though he didn't doubt it. He knew it was the only reason Melinda had stayed for so long. 

"Come on," he said, stroking her back. "Let's all go get breakfast. I'll make pancakes." 

"Okay," Skye said. She stood slowly then turned and clung to him, burying her head in his leg. "I love you." 

"I love you too," he said, holding her close. "Don't worry, everything's going to be okay." 

***

It had been a strange day. One moment Skye had seemed almost unaffected by what was happening, the next she'd been in tears, clinging to them. He couldn't blame her, her mother had left her. He'd have been upset too. She'd been reluctant to go to bed but Clint had sat beside her until she fell asleep and now here they were, sitting across from each other in the kitchen, ready to talk. 

He wasn't sure there was anything left to say. 

"I'll sell the house," he started. "I don't have much in terms of savings but..." 

"I do," Clint offered, leaning forward to take Phil's hand. "It's not like I've had much to spent it on. I mean, we probably won't be able to afford a life like you have here..." 

"I don't care," Phil said, squeezing Clint's hand. "I know things will be different. I just...I want a place for us. Where we can be us. Money's important but we aren't talking about living in poverty."

"No," Clint agreed. "I think we can avoid that. It's just...you're sure you want this?" 

"Yes," Phil said. "You're sure you want us. Skye...she'd going to be alright but you can't come with us and then change your mind. Not after her mom just walked out on us." 

"I won't," Clint promised. "I love her. I love you. I want to be with you. Family, right? Skye's been in my life long enough that she feels like mine anyway." 

"She is," Phil agreed. "Ours. And, maybe, we can take care of her. Love her properly now, like a family should." 

"Yeah," Clint agreed. "Together, we can do this."


	9. Chapter 9

A normal day went like this. 

Phil would wake up before everyone else, kiss Clint's forhead and slip out of bed to make the most of having the tiny bathroom to himself. He stopped by Skye's room to wake her up before heading down to the kitchen to make breakfast. 

The smell of the coffee brewing normally summoned Clint from his slumber. He'd appear, grumpy and bleary, and drink from the pot if Phil didn't intercept him with a mug first but Phil was well trained in that by now. Skye would appear too, dressed for school and ready to scarf down some breakfast before she went out. 

New life hadn't just meant new family circumstances but new jobs. Clint and he had talked about it for a long time and decided that, if they were going to move for quality of life they were going to take jobs for quality of life too. Clint worked as a shooting instructor at a local range, specialising in archery. Phil worked for a non-profit concerned with beta and omega rights. It felt right, like giving back. He knew he had a lot to give back. As far as anyone at work knew, he was a beta. 

Clint dropped Skye off in the morning, though she was already insisting that she was really old enough to look after herself. He knew that, secretly, she enjoyed that time she had alone with Clint. She'd be as sad as them when she really was old enough to walk alone. 

Phil would head into work and do his job. It was important, he was good at it, but he always left on time. He worked, he didn't live his job. He'd be there every day to pick Skye up. The other betas on the yard chatted to him, said how lucky he was to have such a lovely daughter. 

When they got home he'd help her with her homework or watch bad TV or play games until Clint came home. Then they all cooked dinner together, every night, and ate together. 

Melinda would phone once or twice a week. She sounded better every time she phoned and he was glad for her. He knew she'd made the right decision for her, even if Skye did miss her. It was the right decision for them all really. Skye was adapting and Melinda and Skye seemed to have a better relationship now they didn't feel so obligated to each other. 

Skye would go to bed, most of the time in her own little room but occasionally curled up in their bed. She'd be too old for that, soon. He wasn't looking forward to that. He and Clint would then have a little time together, just the two of them. It was nice, peaceful. He'd never been so happy. 

***

Phil wasn't sure he subscribed to Skye's theory that ten was an extra-special birthday and so had to be celebrated in an extra-special way but he had a chronic inability to deny his daughter anything so they had the party anyway. 

It was the height of all things ten year olds wanted. They'd booked out the community hall and it was crammed with every pre-pubescent child Skye knew and most of their siblings. A friend of Clint's from the range had brought along a sound system and was pumping music at them while somebody Phil was paying played organised party games. He'd meant to do it all himself but Skye had made it painfully obvious to him that while she loved him and he was always enough for her, he was also boring and didn't know any fun games and couldn't she have the same lady who'd done Courtney's party. 

He hadn't taken it personally (he kind of enjoyed how boring his life was now, how predictable) and he'd paid the lady who'd organised Courtney's party to take care of everything for him. 

That left him skulking around the edge of the hall watching the kids play as Clint scuttled around taking care of refreshments and Skye danced with her friends. That was probably why he was the first to realise Melinda and Natasha were there. 

It wasn't the first time he'd seen them since they'd run away. It had been a year and a half, after all. They visited when they could and he didn't ask where they were when they weren't there but Melinda looked more alive, more healthy, than she had in years. 

He watched as Natasha disengaged to go talk to Clint and then approached. Melinda looked up when she saw him and smiled. That was new, too. The ability to smile at him. Some days he almost felt there was hope that, maybe, that could be friends again. He wouldn't push it, of course. It was up to Melinda to take that step, but he hoped. 

"Phil," she said as he drew alongside her. "I didn't realise the party would be this big." 

"I didn't think it would be when I agreed to it," Phil said with a helpless shrug. "It's kind of gotten out of control." 

"What you mean is that you still can't say no to her," Melinda said with a knowing smile. "It's alright, it's not like it's a new weakness." 

"I think I resent that," Phil said, though he didn't really and they both knew it. He'd give Skye the moon if she asked, he always would have. He'd lived for her for years, it was nice that giving her what she needed didn't mean he had to give up everything he wanted any more. "You're looking well." 

"I'm feeling well. You know I can't tell you where I've been."

"Of course." 

"But it's good to be out in the world again. I miss her, of course, but I was no mother. A shadow can't love you." 

Phil didn't need to reply. It was a conversation they'd had a million times and Phil could never work out if he agreed with her or not so it was easier to just let it go. he was saved from having to think of something to say when Skye spotted them and immediately detached herself from her friends to go throw herself into her mother's arms. Phil slunk away, leaving them to have a moment and heading for the snack table. 

Natasha had disappeared but Clint was still there, looking at the spread like he wasn't sure what to do with himself now that this was accomplished. Phil intercepted, taking his hand and leading him over to the side of the room. 

"Come on," he said. "We're paying people to organise this party. You should come relax." 

"I guess," Clint said, looking over to the party runner. Clint had been a little resentful that he hadn't been able to do this himself but even he'd had to agree that a crowd of kids this size wasn't something he wanted to take on. 

"Did Nat talk to you?" Phil asked, hoping to distract Clint. 

"Yeah," Clint said, leaning into Phil's side. "She looks good. They both look better every time we see each other. I think they have a good influence on each other." 

"I think they're terrifying," Phil said, scanning the crowd for Nat. It didn't take his long to spot her hovering hear Melinda and Skye. Her relationship with Skye wasn't as good as Clint's, obviously, but they were getting there. Natasha was a good woman, just not great with children. "Do you want to slip out for a while? I think this music's going to give me a migraine." 

"That's not the most romantic thing you've ever said to me but sure," Clint said, reaching over to take Phil's hand. Phil rolled his eyes but he let Clint lead him out of the building. Things were going well, he could enjoy some time with the man he loved. He'd earned it.

**Author's Note:**

> So, detailed warnings. These do obviously contain spoilers for the story so, yeah. 
> 
> The fic starts with a scene in which Phil, who does not want to be an alpha or to have alpha/omega sex, is overcome by Melinda's pheromones, she also does not want sex, and they have sex. It's a fuck or die situation without the happily ever after that gets tagged on in the cliche. 
> 
> There's an unwanted pregnancy and mentions of failed abortion. 
> 
> There's a lot of issues around Melinda about depression to do with her domestic situation. There are some issues around Phil to do with depression and his situation too. 
> 
> Phil explicitly (and Melinda in the subtext) expresses a feeling that he was born to a gender other than the one he is. In-universe dynamics make that something that people don't really talk about so he's quite isolated in it and had some personal issues to do with his inability to be the kind of person society tells him he should be. 
> 
> I think that's everything. I'm aware some of that may be triggering or might take you to a place you don't want to go just for the sake of reading a story so now you're warned. This fic does have a happy ending and Clint is supportive if that helps.


End file.
